


Us Against the World

by januarylily



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Winsister, sisfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2018-09-19 06:11:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 34
Words: 415,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9422021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/januarylily/pseuds/januarylily
Summary: Campbell "Elle" Winchester, the youngest Winchester sibling, has never led a normal life—unless one considers ganking ghosts "normal." She teams up with her brothers to take on the world, but there are always bumps in the road. Every family has a story, welcome to the Winchesters.





	1. Going to California

The street lights flashed by overhead as a black Impala roared down the surprisingly near-empty highway just outside of New Orleans, Louisiana. Inside the car, Dean Winchester used the steering wheel as a fake drum set with one hand, jamming out to Led Zeppelin's Babe I'm Gonna Leave You while his passenger slept curled up in a ball beside him. His passenger was Campbell Winchester, usually known as Elle. Elle was Dean's baby sister. Well, she wasn't quite so little anymore being twenty-one and all, but he would never tell her that. After all, it was his job to look after her. Always had been always would be, as long as he had a say in the matter.

Dean and Elle had just finished up their job in New Orleans, dealing with some pain-in-the-ass vengeful spirit. They were now headed across the country toward Stanford. They needed Sam for their next gig. It didn't matter that things had turned sour with the other Winchester sibling four years ago nor that they hadn't really heard from him. The truth was, they needed Sam. But Dean hadn't told Elle that detail quite yet. He knew she would probably overreact and try to talk him out of it. But he had a gut feeling about this one.

The reason Dean hadn't been upfront with Elle about their new job was because it wasn't really one of their normal jobs. The task at hand involved looking for their missing father. Neither he nor Elle had been able to get ahold of their father for the past couple days and that worried him. But given their line of work, it was totally understandable. Hence, the road trip to get Sammy. They were going to need all hands on deck if they intended on finding John Winchester. That was just the family business. Their family business wasn't exactly normal, well, unless one considered hunting demons, ghosts, and anything else of the supernatural persuasion normal. But it was the Winchester way of life. The only life they really knew.

Elle slowly rolled to her other side, facing Dean. With her eyes barely open, she squinted at her older brother, trying to process where she was and what they were doing. She attempted to say something to her brother, but her voice was drowned out by Dean's Led Zeppelin jam. When Dean realized she was trying to talk to him, he turned the music down. "You said somethin'?" Dean said as he flashed a grin toward his sister.

"How much farther until the motel?" Elle asked hoarsely, glancing outside, confused by her surroundings...or rather, the lack thereof.

"We're not goin' back there. I—um—I already found us another job."

Elle raised an eyebrow suspiciously at her brother. She could tell he was hiding something, but she wasn't quite sure what. She fidgeted in her seat before she asked, "When did you have time to find one?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders and drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, clearly trying to play it cool. "Sometime after burnin' the body and before you woke up, I guess."

"I wasn't sleeping." Elle pouted a little as she shifted in her seat with her arms folded over her chest. "I was just sitting there with my eyes closed."

"Oh, that's what that was. Huh. I probably should have told my paid lady friend to be quieter then." Dean shot his sister a wink.

Elle's eyes widened. "That's disgusting! You did that with me in here?" She quickly looked back at the backseat and grimace. She then punched her brother in the arm, but Dean only laughed at her pathetic response.

"You punch like a girl."

"I am a girl! And there's no way you had a lady friend in here...no way...at least, I don't think you did." Elle's brow furrowed remembering a time when she actually had been in the car and Dean had someone over for extracurricular activities.

Dean chuckled. He had been thinking the same thing as Elle. Of course, he hadn't realized that Elle was in there at the time. He was a little too preoccupied to check the front seat while making use of the back. But that didn't mean he couldn't have some fun messing with his sister. "If you were actually awake you'd know if I did or if I didn't, now wouldn't you?"

Elle groaned and rolled her eyes. "Fine, I was asleep. Happy?"

"Ecstatic. And FYI, there was no curbside lady in the backseat." Dean then glanced over to his sister and smirked. "At least not quite yet. I'll be sure to let you know when Baby's occupied."

The Winchester girl placed her hands over her ears. "Ew. Perv."

Dean smiles before he reached across to ruffle his sister's dark hair. Elle's reaction made him laugh as she scrunched her face and then swatted at his hand. He then withdrew his hand and placed it back on the wheel. Elle tried to smooth her hair back into place, but the bedhead she already had from sleeping made things much more difficult. She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned around to grab her messenger bag from the backseat. With a firm yank, her bag went flying to the front seat. It was like an art form she had perfected.

Elle began to rummage through her bag. Most of its contents wouldn't typically be found in a girl her age's bag. The salt rounds, the bottle of holy water, and a rod made out of pure iron definitely wouldn't qualify her for normal, but the compact mirror she pulled out at least gave her some sense of normalcy for a girl her age. She opened the compact mirror to examine her pathetic appearance, not having showered since yesterday...before her run-in with a vengeful spirit being earlier that day.

The Winchester girl's strikingly blue eyes looked back at her as she looked over the scratches and newly formed bruises on her face. She bit her bottom lip in contemplation. Being bait always came with a risk. Always. She was just thankful that Dean had salted and burned that damn ghost's bones before it had managed to do something worse to her. It had happened before...but she trusted Dean. She trusted him with her life.

With a sigh, she dropped the compact mirror back in her bag before she put her seatbelt back on and stretched out. Elle plopped her Cookie Monster socked feet on the dashboard, knowing full-well Dean was going to give her crap for it, but she did it anyway. Three. Two. One. Just as expected Dean looked at his sister with a stink eye. Elle responded with an eye roll of her own before Dean began swatting at her legs. "Get your smelly ass feet off my baby."

"My feet don't smell." Elle groaned and removed her feet, but sat cross-legged on the seat beside him just to spite her brother. She slowly reached one of her feet toward her brother until it brushed against him.

Dean grabbed her foot and pushed it to the floor. "Have you taken a whiff of them recently?"

"I think you might be mistaking my feet for your feet. Besides, even if my feet smelled they don't even begin to compare to…"

"Sammy's feet," Dean chuckled shaking his head. "Good lord, I swear he bathed his feet in onions, garlic, urine, and sweaty gym socks. Those puppies reeked." He went silent for a moment before he added, "And for the record, your feet do smell."

Elle rolled her eyes in her brother's direction again. Dean may give her crap most the time, but that was the nature of their relationship and she wouldn't change it for anything. Besides, Elle Winchester could give back just as well as she got and Dean knew it.

She sighed, Dean had always been the one to take care of her. Even when she was younger, it had always been Dean looking after her. He was just old enough to take on that role for her. He had taught her how to ride a bike, how to drive a car, and of course, hunting and ganking the supernatural. In most senses of the word, Dean was more like a father to her than a brother. Sometimes, Elle couldn't help but wonder if that role had been forced on Dean or one he had chosen willingly. But sometimes, it was hard for him to switch back and forth between brother mode and father mode-something she knew he shouldn't have had to do in the first place. Her relationship with Dean at times quite contrasted her relationship with her other brother.

Looking out the window once more, she couldn't help but feel some contempt toward Sam. He had just up and left them… he had left her. Something that she had never expected to happen. Whereas Dean had been like a father, Sam had been her best friend and she took him abandoning them quite hard. But the situation Sam had put her in that night hadn't made the situation any easier. Sam had wanted her to go with him to California and deep down, she had desperately wanted to go with him. But like Dean, one of her fatal flaws was that she also had a misguided sense of family honor. She had been so torn that night between going with Sam or staying with Dad and Dean. She had known that either way, someone else was going to get hurt and it wasn't fair of him to spring that on her.

Elle had never voiced her reason to stay. Not to anyone. Ever. Sometimes, she tried to keep the truth from herself. She figured that she should keep her real reason buried, otherwise the flaw in her logic could easily be pointed out and it was common knowledge that once there was a crack in the foundation, the building would eventually come crashing down. Those kind of emotions were deadly to a hunter. Compartmentalizing was a hunter's best friend.

With a sigh, Elle ran her fingers through her long brown hair when her stomach began to growl. She looked peripherally to Dean to see if he had noticed. Dean laughed at and made some dumb joke before he promised they would stop for a burger at the first exit they found.

Ten minutes later, Elle was practically devouring her burger in Dean's car as they sat in the parking lot. God, she had missed having a good burger. Dean claimed that she ruined the masterpiece by putting French fries on it as a condiment, but Elle couldn't care less what Dean thought about it. She liked it and that was all that mattered, right?

Beside her, Dean too was shoveling his food down his gullet so that they could get back on the road. Wherever they were going, it must be urgent, Elle mused. Originally, Dean had wanted to eat while he drove, but Elle persuaded him not to. And by persuaded she meant that she whined about the one time they almost went into the ditch while he was eating Taco Bell. Of course, he couldn't have helped it. There really isn't a good way to eat a taco while driving. And besides, to accuse him of ever purposely trying to harm his baby was obscene.

Dean shoved a handful of fries in his mouth before he slurped it down with his soda. Although, it was pretty obvious that he would give anything to have a beer right about now. Dean finished eating before Elle did. He shoved his wrappers back into the McDonald's bag that sat between him and his sister. He then put the car into drive before driving out of the out of the parking lot, while his sister continued to eat.

As he pulled back onto the highway, he glanced over at his sister curiously. She had been rather quiet and judging from the expression on her face, Dean knew whatever she was thinking couldn't be good. So, he attempted to distract her. "Why don't you give Dad a call when you're done eatin', kay?" Dean said smoothly.

Elle looked up at her brother, her blue eyes shimmering in the dark car. "He's not going to answer, Dean," she responded between bites of her cheeseburger.

Dean shrugged his shoulders. "Doesn't hurt to try, Elle-Belle," he said more for the sake of argument, knowing full-well she strongly disliked that nickname. He knew John Winchester wasn't likely to answer, but it was all he could think of doing right now.

"We've been trying." Elle brought her feet up onto the seat and her knees to her chest, curling herself into a ball.

"We'll just have to try harder." Dean knew this wasn't going well...she hadn't even finished her burger, but sometimes his sister could just be plain stubborn.

Elle scoffed. "And how exactly does one try harder? That expression doesn't make any sense. Where does it even come from anyway? Remind me to put that on my list of phrases not to use because they don't make any damn sense. Then again, I should probably start said list because it doesn't actually exist yet."

"Elle!" Dean snapped. "Just do it, dammit. Just call Dad."

Elle looked over to her brother suspiciously, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she nibbled at one of her fries as Dean began humming to another Led Zeppelin song on another one of his damn tapes. While she could appreciate Dean and her dad's music, it wasn't her particular favorite. No, Dean would relentlessly mock her for the type of music she liked to listen to. Then again, he mocked anyone who didn't have his taste in music.

Recognizing that she wasn't going to do it without more prompting, Dean handed his little sister his cell phone. She grudgingly accepted his phone, despite having her own phone, not that she regularly used her own phone for much. Elle angrily flipped open her brother's phone. Elle and Dean both knew that if John Winchester was going to answer anyone's call, it would be Dean's call...not hers. Although that could be another reason that Dean was having her use his phone, Elle mused.

But Dean was seemed to be forgetting the fact that John Winchester hadn't answered any phone calls for days. That should have been a flashing neon sign saying something to them. But Elle hit re-dial on the phone anyway. Not surprisingly, it went straight to voicemail. She quickly ended the call and tossed Dean's phone back at him. "Surprise, surprise," Elle spit cynically. "Voicemail. No point in me leaving one."

Dean knew better than to say anything when his sister got like this, but that didn't stop him from being sorely tempted. He chewed on his cheek to keep him from saying anything stupid. After a few minutes and a bloody cheek later, Elle was the first to speak. But she changed the subject to one Dean wasn't prepared for Mom.

Elle shifted uncomfortably as she looked at her brother. "Dean, what was Mom like?" she asked rather innocently.

"Wh—what?" Dean stammered glancing at his sister, rubbing the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

The Winchester girl played with her hands, glancing down at the floor, almost embarrassed to have even asked. "Mom?" she muttered before looking back at him again. "You know the woman who—"

Dean put his hand up to stop her from finishing. "I know who Mom is, Elle-Belle."

"Well, tell me something about her." Elle folded her arms across her chest and stared at her brother.

Dean thought she looked so young and almost childlike in that moment. But he wasn't sure if he was ready for this conversation. He wasn't even that old when their mother burned to death. So, that's what he told his sister. "It's not like I remember much. I was only four when she—"

"Please?"

Elle's pleading and her damn puppy dog eyes were causing his barriers to crumble. "Um—well—let's see here. She had blonde hair and blue eyes—"

"C'mon, I already know that from the picture you have. Something else. Please?"

Dean shook his head and slapped the steering wheel with his right hand. "Son-of-a-bitch Elle, you didn't even give me a chance to finish what I was saying."

Elle threw her head back and groaned. "Sorry!" She stayed quiet for a moment before continuing with a slight smirk playing on her face, "And for the record, I think I'd technically be labeled as a daughter-of-a-bitch. Just saying."

"Yeah, yeah,again-what'syeah. Whatever you say." Dean glanced at his little sister. She was almost always able to bring humor into any situation, even as self-deprecating as it was, but it was one of the things he admired about her. Dean drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. "Now, where was I...right, as I was saying you have her eyes. Same shade and everything."

Although, what Dean didn't tell her was that was one of the reasons John couldn't stand to look Elle in the eyes. He didn't want to do that to her. Dean nodded his head. "So...yeah."

"And?" Elle asked, leaning forward wanting to know more.

"And what?"

"And that's all you're going to tell me? What about what was her favorite color? Or her favorite flower? Her favorite song? Favorite dessert? There are just too many questions that I haven't gotten any answers to. I'm twenty-one years old and I think I deserve to know something about my mother. Something that I can't get from looking at a picture of her."

Dean raised an eyebrow curiously at his sister. "What's with twenty questions about Mom all a sudden?"

"I—I don't know," was all she offered.

The older Winchester shot his sister a slightly disapproving glance. He knew his sister better than to buy that. "I know for a fact that's a lie, so let's try this again. What's with the twenty questions about Mom?"

"I—I just want to know her so bad, Dean. I always have. I never got to know her. She never even got to hold me. I-I just want to know if she'd like me. If she would be proud of me. But sometimes I can't help but wonder if I'm as big of a disappointment to her as I am to Dad."

There it was, the truth; the elephant in the room—well, car, technically. Dean exhaled slowly trying to carefully calculate a response to his sister's revelation. He knew she had building up something against their father for years, but this was one of the first times she had ever voiced anything about it. "You're not a disappointment to Dad," he said trying to reassure her.

Elle snapped her fingers at him. "Don't try and placate me."

"You know better than to use the big fancy words with me when I'm trying to help you. School wasn't my thing and I was never college material."

"Neither was I. I didn't even try to apply for colleges because I thought it would make Dad happy, especially after Sam. But it didn't. Nothing I do ever makes him happy. Ever. Everything I've done with my life has never been enough for him. I just can't do enough for that man. Do you know that never once in my life do I remember him telling me that he loved me? Not once, Dean. That's weird."

"Elle, Dad's just Dad. It's nothing to get all wound up over."

Elle shook her head. "You don't get it Dean. I see the way Dad looks at you. Hell, even Sam, whom he said he never wanted to see again. He doesn't look at me like that. He looks at me like I'm some sort of abomination from hell that doesn't deserve to live. It's like he's always waiting for the other shoe to drop with me or something. For once in my life, I just want to be enough and for him to say the oh-so scary L word."

Dean sighed. "I promise you that when we find him, you'll get whatever it is you've been looking for. I'll make sure of it. First things first, we kinda actually need to find him."

She wasn't sure that she believed Dean's words, but she knew that Dean believed them and when Dean set his mind to something, he did something about it no matter what the consequences. He had proved his loyalty time and time again. Whatever he did, it was always in the best interest of their family, no matter how stupid. Despite his rough exterior, her brother was a softy on the inside, as far as she was concerned. Although Dean would never 'fess up to that.

Elle could practically feel her brother's eyes on her, waiting for her to respond. If he was going along with it for her sake, then she might as well too. She nodded her head and then asked, "So, what's this plan of yours?"

"Remember that job I was talkin' about?"

There was something in his tone that gave away that there was more to this than he originally let on. She eyed her brother curiously. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, the job kinda involves picking Sammy up."

Elle slowly blinked her eyes, processing what he said before she responded. "Kinda or it actually does? There's a big difference between the two, Dean."

Dean glanced at his sister before looking back at the road ahead. "We need Sammy on this one, Elle. I just feel it."

Elle couldn't help but scoff. There was no way in hell that Sam was going to go with them. He had his perfect apple pie life at Stanford. A life that she quite often envied, to be honest. But she knew what Dean was thinking. In order to find Dad, it was going to take the three of them putting their heads together and working alongside each other. Even though his hunting skills might be a little rusty, Sam was pretty damn intelligent and a third set of eyes to discover whatever John Winchester had been up to couldn't hurt.

She understood his plan, but that didn't mean she liked it or that she thought it was going to work. "You know that he's never going to go for it since he's gone all big-shot Stanford guy now," Elle commented.

"I think you're wrong. This is about Dad. He'll listen to reason and family honor," Dean responded.

"Cute names for your fists, Dean," Elle quickly retorted in her somewhat off-the-wallsense of humor before she bringing herself back to her point. "I just don't think taking Sam on in a wrestling match until he agrees with you is going to work."

"It always worked before," Dean smirked remembering a few other times when that tactic had proved useful.

Elle shook her head. "Yeah, when Sam was like half your size. You're the little brother now."

"Shut up. At least, I'm not as little as you are, Shorty."

"Hey, I'm not short, I'm fun-sized," Elle responded having once seen the slogan on a T-shirt. "But enough about me, you need a better plan for Sammy if you expect to get him to agree to road trip-it with us."

"And what, pray tell, do you suggest?" He scoffed with an obvious helping of sarcasm.

Elle pondered his challenge for a moment. She was usually pretty good at coming up with a sensible plan...at least, compared to Dean's usual plans. After about a minute, she had it. "Alright. How about you let me butter him up a little first? The helpless little sister thing always works on you and if I remember correctly it used to work on him too. "

"Helpless, my ass. Sam would never fall for that...and neither do I. We're not that dumb."

"Oh, really? How much are you willing to bet big brother?" Elle questioned as she held out her hand for Dean to place his wager.

"Not much," Dean muttered with a glance over to his sister, knowing she was probably right. "So what exactly are you going to do that's magically going to get him to come along? Huh?"

Elle smirked at her brother. "Well, I was thinking something along the lines of telling him that I'm fighting with you...again. It was really bad this time and I need a place to crash...that's the helpless little sister part. Then comes your part, you come along and say that we need to go find Dad, yadda, yadda, and I say that I won't go with you unless Sam goes because I can't stand being around your big fat ugly face. Then he's guilted into coming along so that he can keep the peace between us. It's practically perfect."

Dean shook his head. "Believable, I suppose...except the part about my big fat ugly face. My face is adorable."

"You keep telling yourself that."

"I will because it's the truth and you know it."

The conversation between Dean and Elle came to a lull. For the next hundred miles or so they sat in silence, a comfortable silence. That was one thing Elle liked about her relationship with Dean, they didn't always have to be talking to be comfortable with each other. You know, sometimes there are those people in life where you always have to keep them talking in order to know where you stand with them?

Well, being with Dean wasn't that way for Elle. They could ride together for hundreds of miles without uttering a single word to each other and yet, she knew that Dean usually wasn't angry with her. If he was angry with her, his facial expressions gave him away. He wasn't as good at hiding it as she was.

So, as for now, they were both content to sit in the Impala in silence as Elle drifted back to sleep while Dean continued to rock-out to his music. When Elle finally woke up again, they were somewhere in Texas, the seemingly never-ending state. It seemed like everytime they drove through the damn state it seemed to get larger and take longer to travel through.

Elle stretched her arms, glancing at a sign that said the next exit, beside the next one, wouldn't be for another seventy miles. She then looked at her brother who attempted to stifle a yawn. His over-tiredness caused him to accidentally jerk the wheel toward oncoming traffic. Dean and Elle's eyes widened as Dean quickly jerked the wheel the other direction to get them back on their side of the road. The sound of a car's horn passed by them as Dean rubbed at his eyes.

"Pull over, you shouldn't be driving," Elle commanded her older brother.

"I'm fine," Dean grumbled. "Just need to change the music."

"That's not going to work, Dean. We've been up since freaking six a.m. yesterday morning. You're tired. Just admit it."

"This is nothing compared to when—"

"You need some sleep. God forbid that you actually let yourself be human for once."

"I'll just pull over at the next town in a few miles and I can take a little power nap and it will be all good."

Elle shook her head."Shows how well you were paying attention. That last sign back there, before the last exit, said that the next stop isn't for over seventy miles, you loser. Just pull over and I'll drive for a couple of hours."

"But you hate driving."

"True, but if you make me choose between dying or driving, my money's on me choosing driving. Besides, would you prefer to get to Sam's so we can find Dad, or that we become road kill, which would be especially pathetic considering what we do for a living."

Dean remained stubborn with his hands gripped firmly to the wheel. He shifted in his seat, trying to sit up straighter. It was obvious he was trying to keep his eyes open wider to prove that he was awake, despite how tired he felt.

Elle shook her head. She knew how stubborn he could be, but having lived with him her whole life, she also knew his weak spots. "If you're not going to think about my welfare, then at least consider Baby's and how devastated you'd be to see her twisted and smashed frame splattered with my guts. Think of her shattered windshield, with my blood—and dashboard with my gut. Poor Baby with-"

Dean put his hand up to stop her. "I get your point, but quit being so graphic around Baby. You're gonna upset her if you keep talkin' like that and then she ain't gonna work right for you."

Elle rolled her eyes as Dean pulled over to the shoulder of the road rather reluctantly. He looked over to her before tapping the steering wheel. Dean then started to go over all the rules about driving his baby. Honestly, he was the one who had taught her how to drive and with this car nonetheless. He was too overprotective, but then again, if he was this protective over his car it only showed how much more he'd do for his family.

When Dean was done explaining things, things which Elle hadn't paid any attention to, he opened the driver's side door and stepped outside. Elle pulled on her red Converse sneakers before she followed suit and opened the passenger side door. She stepped outside into the breeze and couldn't help but notice the stars illuminating the night's sky.

She pulled her sweatshirt tighter around her body as she stared up at the immensity above. There was something about the night sky that intrigued her. Something that made her feel protected and safe. It sounded stupid, but that was how she felt.

Elle tore her eyes away from the sky when she heard Dean's footsteps crunching in the gravel. His figure drew closer and closer to her, easily towering over her. Compared to both of her brothers, Elle was tiny. Both of them were well over six feet tall, while she reached five feet two inches on a good day...if she rounded...and was wearing the right shoes. She smirked. Rounding, she chuckled to herself. At least something from third grade math came in handy every once in awhile.

Elle stretched herself to her full height when her brother stopped beside her. Dean held the keys out in front of her which she snatched from his hand. Normally, she'd have some sort of witty retort about him actually handing the keys over to her, but she didn't want to press her luck. Dean needed some sleep, not to mention that she didn't want to die on the freaking highway.

She adjusted her blue plaid shirt underneath her sweatshirt before she walked over to the driver's side. As she looked through the window, she could see Dean practically sulking. But she knew that he knew she was right...if that made any sense. She chuckled at her brother and slid onto the seat. Part of the reason she knew Dean hated her driving was because she had to readjust every little thing, including the seat which drove Dean nuts. She was short, so she needed the seat closer to the wheel which gave Dean very little legroom.

When Elle had finished adjusting the rearview mirror she turned toward her brother. "So now what do I do?" Elle asked innocently, biting her bottom lip trying to feign nervousness.

"Tell me you're kidding," Dean groaned, his hand moving for the door handle to get out and take the wheel again.

Elle's hand snaked out and grabbed hold of his arm. "Jeez. I'm kidding. Relax. Get some sleep."

Dean looked at his little sister sternly, with his index finger raised. "Just stay on this road and wake me up in exactly two hours. Whatever you do, don't get off this road."

Elle couldn't help but chuckle. "You don't trust me, do you?"

"You're terrible with directions, and even worse when I'm sleeping."

"I'm not that terrible."

Dean raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you remember when we were driving to go gank that ghost in Winona, Minnesota? You took us to Iowa."

The younger Winchester groaned. "I missed one turn and we were still three miles from actually getting into Iowa if you're going to get technical with me. Besides, it wasn't the end of the world."

"Just stay on this road."

Rolling her eyes at her brother, Elle muttered, "Fine."

Elle put the car in drive and carefully maneuvered it onto the empty road. She had driven about five minutes when her hand reached to adjust the radio. She could practically feel Dean's intense glares as she messed with his music, but she stopped fiddling with it when Wake Me Up When September Ends came from the speakers.

She began to sing along to the Green Day song when Dean turned toward her with a peeved expression. She attempted to ignore his glares, but it was futile. "You have gotta be shitting me," Dean growled. "What the hell is this crap?"

"It's Green Day. They've been around for a long time. I figured they'd be a compromise between your music and mine."

"Well, this is shitty music, beyond shitty even. They sold-out and for what? This crap? Change it back."

Elle swatted at his hand as he reached for the dial. "Ah-ah-ah, I don't think so. You're going to follow your own damn rule, that you oh-so-frequently remind me of. Driver picks the music and...hmm...how does that go again?"

Dean shook his head. "Driver picks the music; shotgun shuts his cakehole," he muttered. "But how the hell do you expect me to sleep with this crap on?"

"Peacefully," Elle smirked toward her brother.

"As I bleed from my ears." Dean curled up on his side. His position didn't look comfortable, but Elle wasn't sure his tall frame could find a comfortable position, to begin with.

As another pop song came on the radio, Dean's hands moved over his ears. With a smirk on her face, Elle leaned over and turned the radio off. She would wait until Dean was asleep before she resumed her crappy music jam. Dean seemed to relax more as the car grew silent.

Elle kept her eyes focused on the road as Dean's soft snores began to fill the car. She called Dean's name to make sure that he was out. When he didn't respond, she turned her music station back on but kept the volume turned down fairly low so that today's hits wouldn't wake Dean up.

She had fully intended on letting Dean sleep longer than two hours, but his internal clock must have known when his two hours were up because his eyes fluttered open and he immediately turned Elle's music off. "Pull over. I ain't sleeping to this crap anymore," Dean grumbled.

Elle shook her head before pulled over and they switched back to their original positions, Dean back to driving and Elle back to riding shotgun. The first thing Dean did when he got behind the wheel was change the music. Then he changed the seat, the mirrors, and everything else Elle had changed.

When they crossed the border into California, Elle's stomach began to churn. She had been so confident about her plan to get Sam earlier, but would he even want to see her? It had been complete radio-silence between the two of them since he had left. But more than that, she was stubborn and she wasn't so sure she had forgiven him for that night.

Why did emotions and family have to be so complicated? He was her brother, she should be glad that she was seeing him again, but she couldn't let herself completely go there. Yet, here Dean was, acting like Sam had been gone for nothing more than a weekend fling or something. Elle exhaled slowly. She needed to ignore the feelings that were building up within her. She needed to put on a happy face and push those feelings aside, something that she had already been doing for years. This time shouldn't be any different...or at least she hoped it wouldn't be any different.

Dean interrupted her thoughts when he asked her to pull out a piece of paper with Sam's address out of the glove compartment. Why the hell they called these things glove compartments was beyond her, but nonetheless, she handed Dean Sam's address. "We're close," he grumbled, before calculating the route he wanted to take. After turning down a few more streets, they finally came to a stop.

The Impala shifted into park outside the building where Sam lived. It looked...nice, Elle supposed. Well nice, considering how they had grown up on the road, never staying in one place for long. Nice to have a place to call home. A home, a mother, and her father's love were a few of the only things Elle wanted in life and she was pretty sure she was never going to get any of that. She didn't voice her thoughts aloud though, because while they should have been happy Sammy had gotten out, she knew that both she and Dean (whether he'd admit it or not) were somewhat jealous that he had a home. A place that beat the Impala or a crappy motel any day.

Dean cleared his throat, so Elle turned toward her big brother. "Out you go," he said. "You have one hour to get him in this car before I go barging in there, guns blazing."

"You mean, you're actually letting me do this?" Elle asked in a tone of surprise.

Dean shrugged nonchalantly. "I have to hit the head."

Elle raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Which is going to take an hour?"

"You can't rush digestion," Dean smirked at his sister who rolled her eyes at him.

"You're full of crap."

"Not for long." Dean winked at his sister which caused her to pretend to puke. He laughed. "You walked into that one and you know it."

Elle shoved her brother away from her in disgust before slipping her shoes back on her feet once more. She stretched as she stepped out of the car before she pulled her old blue Jansport messenger style backpack over her head. She slammed the car door shut behind her. Dean awkwardly waved at her with a stupid grin on his face like he was dropping her off at her first day of school but she shooed him to drive away with her hand motions. Surprisingly, he did as he was told.

She stood there for a moment watching the Impala drive away before she shoved her hands in her sweatshirt pockets. Elle then turned to find Sammy's apartment. She hoped she knocked on the right door, otherwise, that could be awkward...not that she had ever done that before. No, never. So, that was a lie, she had experienced that before and it wasn't any fun for her, but she never lived the moment down with Dean.

Elle carefully climbed the stairs until she came to the door to Sam's place. This was it. At least she hoped she was at the right door. She rapped twice on the door before lowering her hand. There was no going back now.

The Winchester girl blew a stray tendril of hair from her face before she decided to throw her long dark hair up into a messy bun. Once her hair was up, there was still no answer at the door. She knocked again, beginning to grow impatient. What if Sam wasn't even here? Maybe he moved and they had the wrong address? Part of her wanted to dash and then whoever was inside could chalk it up to a teenage prank, but she saw a light flicker on.

Moments later the door opened, revealing a girl with long blonde hair dressed in a Smurfs shirt with a toothbrush in hand. "Can I help you?" the blonde girl asked.

"I—um—I don't know," Elle stammered. "I must have the wrong place or something. I was just looking for my brother and clearly, you're not him. So, I'll—uh—I'll just be going."

Elle moved to turn away, but the girl reached out and grabbed her arm. The Winchester girl turned around to find the blonde girl eyeing her up. "Your brother wouldn't be Sam, would it?"

Elle's eyes popped in surprise. "Actually, yeah, his name is Sam. Sam Winchester."

"That must make you, Elle, the infamous little sister." The blonde girl smiled. It was obvious she was teasing Elle. As much as Elle hated to admit it, she was already liking the girl living with Sam...whom she could only rationalize to be his girlfriend.

"Guilty?" Elle said raising her hands in defense.

"Don't worry, you've got the right place. Sam just crawled into bed not too long ago. I was up—well, I think you can see what I was doing," The blonde girl said holding up her toothbrush. "But come on in. I'm sure he'll be really glad to see you. We were actually just talking about you earlier."

Elle muttered to herself, "That's not very reassuring."

The blonde turned and looked at Elle curiously. "What was that?"

The Winchester girl faked a cough. "Nothing. Just had a tickle in my throat."

Sam's girlfriend motioned for Elle to come inside. Elle nodded her head and stepped inside Sam's apartment. The girl smiled. "I'm Jess by the way."

"I'm Elle, but you already know that.'

Jess chuckled as she led Elle a little further inside. She then held up a finger and told Elle, "Just wait here. I'll go get him. He's going to be so surprised."

Elle nodded her head but muttered to herself, "That's one word for it."

Jess disappeared into the back room as Elle stood there awkwardly examining the room she was in. Pictures of Sam and Jess were scattered across the room. They looked happy, genuinely happy. This brought a mixture of happiness for her brother and jealousy. Nowhere did she see a picture of her or Dean. It was almost as if they did not exist. It struck her rather oddly. Did he even miss them?

Elle heard footsteps coming from behind her. She turned to see Sam appear from the back bedroom with a puzzled expression on his face. "Elle?" he asked, trying to figure out whether it was actually his little sister whom he hadn't seen in four years.

She nodded her head and raised her hands, in a what position. "It's me. Surprise."

Next thing she knew, Sam was engulfing her in a bone-crushing hug. She just awkwardly stood there and let her brother hug her while Jess watched from the doorway with a smile on her face. Elle wasn't exactly sure how she wanted to respond.

Thankfully, Jess spoke up before Elle was forced to say something….something she might regret. "Told you so," Jess said playfully to Sam.

Sam looked over his shoulder with a sloppy grin at his girlfriend before he squeezed his sister tight once more and then released her. Elle took a step back from her brother and looked up at him. She had always known that Sam was tall, but he seemed a whole hell of a lot taller than the last time she had seen him. He had to have over a foot of height on her.

Elle offered her brother the best fake-awkward smile that she could and he must have bought it. That or he was just so excited to see her. "Oh my god, Elle. I can't believe you're actually here. What are you doing here?" Sam questioned.

"Dean and I may or may not have had a slight disagreement," Elle stated carefully.

Sam shook his head. He clearly bought her excuse. "A fight? That's just great. About?"

Elle feigned a wince. "Something Dad related."

Sam rolled his eyes before he rubbed his temples. "You know, that's always the case with that man."

The Winchester girl slowly nodded her head. It was the truth, she couldn't deny that. She sighed, "But I don't want to go into that now. Besides, now obviously isn't a good time. I'm interrupting—"

"No, you're not—well, technically you are—but you're welcome here." Sam then turned toward Jess. "She's welcome here, right?"

Jess laughed heartily. "Of course, I've always wanted to meet a member of the mysterious Winchester family that Sam rarely talks about," she responded. "Besides, from the way Sam talks about you...when he actually does...I think we'll get along just fine."

Elle looked at Sam who shrugged his shoulders. Elle was probably the least threatening of the trio Jess hadn't met. Dean often compared her to an annoying little dog: her bark was worse than her bite, but at least she was cute. Or at least that's what she hoped Dean meant by that.

Jess offered to make Elle a sandwich, but the Winchester girl didn't want to impose on the couple. Besides, she needed to get Sam alone so that she could talk to him about her real reason she was there: finding Dad. Not to mention that Dean's outing wasn't going to take him that much longer.

Jess brought a pillow and blanket out and set them on the couch. Too bad Elle wasn't actually going to use them, but she didn't say anything. Jess then excused herself to go to bed not before mentioning something about an LSAT score, then leaving Sam and Elle alone. "Sam—we should talk—"

Sam leaned against the doorframe, with his arms folded across his chest. He nodded his head. "I agree, but I think it should be on some sleep."

"But—" Elle started, but was quickly cut off.

Sam chuckled. "C'mon, what's so important that it can't wait until morning?"

"Well—you see—"

"Morning all right? I'm just so wiped from going out tonight."

Elle looked at her brother curiously. She knew that he never went out on Halloween. It was like his big f-you gesture to everything supernatural. "You went out knowing what day it was?"

"Right? I know you get it." Sam smiled softly at his sister. "But Jess wanted to go out, so I did the good boyfriend thing, you know?"

"I suppose it's more enjoyable when one doesn't know exactly what's out there, huh?"

Sam nodded his head. "That's for sure. I wish I could still be naive about it all, like everyone else I know. Enough about that, though." Sam shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I'm gonna hit the sack. I'll see you in the morning, Elle-Belle."

Elle sighed at the mention of her nickname. She then simply nodded her head, even though she knew that Dean was going to show up before it was morning. And knowing Dean, he was bound to make an entrance. Sam walked away toward the bedroom before he stopped halfway and turned around. "It's really good to see you, Elle. I mean it."

"Yeah, you too, I guess...I mean, given the circumstances."

"I'm still glad you came. I've missed you." Sam smiled at his sister before he turned the lights off and disappeared into the bedroom.

Elle plopped onto the couch and cuddled with the pillow and blanket. She was going to take advantage of it while she had the chance. But just when she had finally found a comfortable position, her phone buzzed with a text message. She groaned as she rolled over to grab her cell phone from the side pocket of her bag. She opened the text message. It was from Dean, the only person who ever texted her.

The text read: Ready or not here i come. And it wasn't long before Elle heard the window jimmy open. Of course, he couldn't use the door like a normal person. Elle shook her head. And of course, he hadn't a clue on how to be quiet. Elle swore the sound of his boots stepping across the floor could wake the dead.

She walked to meet him, but he must not have realized what she was doing because he clomped down on her bare feet with his steel-toed boots. Elle howled in pain as she smacked Dean.

Her scream must have awakened Sam because he shouted from the bedroom, "Elle hold on, I'm coming!"

"This should be fun," Dean chuckled quietly enough for only Elle to hear before she punched him in the arm.

"Don't you dare—" Elle started.

Sam came lumbering into the room, ready to attack. "Get away from her!" the tallest Winchester sibling shouted.

With that, Sam lunged at Dean and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him down. Dean managed to knock Sam's arm away and aimed to strike Sam, who ducked just a few moments before contact. Dean grabbed Sam's arm and swung him around before shoving him back. Sam managed a kick while yelling for Elle and Jess to run, before Dean blocked his kick and pushed him. Sam squinted trying to get a better view of the attacker, whom he still hadn't realized was his brother; but Dean elbowed him in the face.

Elle shouted for the two boys to knock it off, but they weren't finished. Sam attempted a kick at Dean's face, but Dean ducked. Dean tried to swing at Sam, but Sam easily blocked him. Then when Sam wasn't expecting it, Dean knocked him over and pinned him to the floor. One hand is at Sam's throat and the other is holding onto Sam's wrist. "Whoa, easy tiger," Dean said with a grin.

"Dean?" Sam asked in a puzzled tone.

"Are you two done yet?" Elle groaned with her arms folded across her chest. "You're going to wake the neighbors."

Dean laughed and slapped Sam on the shoulder. "You scared the crap out of me, man!" Sam groaned.

"That's 'cause you're out of practice," Dean said. Sam reached for Dean's hand and yanked on it hard before slamming his heel into Dean's back, knocking Dean to the floor. Elle chuckled at the sight. "Or not," Dean said with a smirk playing across his face.

Elle rolled her eyes and looked between her brothers. "Aren't you two just precious," Elle cooed in disgust.

"You shut up," Dean directed toward Elle before turning to Sam. "And you get the hell off of me."

Sam rolled onto his feet before helping Dean off the floor. Dean nodded at Sam, but Sam appeared to be touting a cold and solemn facade. Elle couldn't really figure out what was going on. Why was Sam mad at Dean, but not at her? Then again, why was she angrier at Sam, but not Dean? While she could read Sam's expression and try to decipher her own emotions. She had no idea what the hell was going through Dean's head at this point, which was odd for her

Sam stood there with his arms folded across his chest, impatiently tapping his foot against the floor. "What the hell are you doing here, man?" Sam asked.

Dean smirked one of his infamous stupid smirks that irritated Elle to no end. "Well, I was looking for a beer; but it looks like I got a family reunion instead," Dean responded.

But Sam refused to budge. "What the hell are you doing here?" he repeated.

Dean shook his head and looked at Elle. "You mean, Princess here didn't tell you?" he asked pointing to his little sister. Sam just stared at him. Dean shook his head again. "Why am I not surprised?"

Sam looked rather angrily at Dean. "You have no right to talk about her like that. She told me about you two and how you're being a pain-in-the-ass as usual and she can't stand the sight of your face."

"Did she at least mention that my face is adorable?" Dean grinned and pointed to his face.

Sam took a step toward Dean and snapped. "Cut the crap, Dean! I'm going to ask you for the last time why the hell are you here?"

Dean put his hands up defensively. "Okay. All right. We gotta talk. All three of us."

Dean and Sam started their bickering again, which Elle had no desire to get in the middle of, so she walked toward the kitchen to get a glass of water. As she turned the tap on, Jess made her way into the conversation.

Without even seeing Dean's face, Elle knew that her brother was checking the girl out, especially given the bed clothes she was wearing. Jess made a comment about going to put some more clothes on, but Dean made a cheeky remark about her not needing to. She loved her brother, but God was he a perv.

Elle reached for an apple on the counter beside her which she chucked at Dean's head. She nailed him right on the back of the head. He turned around to glare at her with his hand on the back of his head while Sam managed a laugh. "You were saying?" Elle commented.

"I was saying that I need to borrow this pretty girl's boyfriend and my runaway sister to talk about some private family business," Dean said through gritted teeth before turning toward Jess. "But, uh, nice meeting you."

"No," Sam said sternly. "Whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her."

Elle shook her head. She was positive Sam wouldn't Jess knowing about this. "Sam, maybe that's not—" she started, but it was Dean who cut her off.

"No, he's right Elle. Besides, she's almost family anyway," Dean said before looking directly at Sam. "Um, here it is. Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam seemed to scoff at Dean. At least Dean had managed to phrase things without giving too much away. He did at least have some tact left. Sam wrapped his arm tighter around Jess before giving Dean a response. "So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later. Always does."

"Sam, it's different this time," Elle added, folding her arms across her chest.

"How?"

"Dad's on a hunting trip and he hasn't been home in a few days," Dean said solemnly.

"Jess, excuse us. The three of us need to go outside. Now," Sam said.

Sam walked into the bedroom and threw on some different clothes. While he was gone, Dean attempted to sweet talk Jess, but she remained immune to the oldest Winchester sibling's charms. Sam must have told her a little about him, because she remained rather aloof toward him, a much different reaction than Elle had received.

The middle Winchester sibling walked back into the main room before he pointed toward the door. "Don't mind if I do," Dean said walking out the door. Elle followed behind and Sam brought up the rear as they descended the metal staircase. Things already felt tense and they had barely discussed much of anything.

Elle sighed, "Whoever said family reunions were supposed to be enjoyable has never met the Winchesters."

Neither Sam nor Dean made a remark. Clearly, things were not going well. Elle just hoped they could put their difference aside for a few days to find Dad, because honestly, they didn't need any more family drama than they were already dealing with.


	2. The Woman in White

Elle continued down the stairwell behind Dean and in front of Sam as her brothers' discussion began to get rather heated. Sam was angry that Dean would break-in during the middle of the night and Dean was angry that Sam was missing the point about Dad. Even though Dean didn't say it, she was pretty sure he was a bit peeved at her for not buttering Sammy up enough to get him to come along. But the entire flight down the stairs, Elle kept her mouth shut. While she agreed more with Dean than Sam, she needed Sam to believe that she wasn't against him: hence keeping her mouth shut. She was so focused on not saying the wrong thing that she didn't even know that Dean had stopped descending the stairs. She slammed hard into him causing her to lose her balance. Somehow, Sam managed to catch her; but she quickly got back to her feet, not wanting to feel like she owed Sam or anything. Dean shook his head at Elle's clumsiness before he turned around and looked Sam in the eye.

"Dad's never been gone this long before and deep down you know it. He's in trouble. So, are you going to come with us or not?" Dean asked.

"I'm not and you're not taking Elle on this crazy trip with you either," Sam argued.

"Crazy trip? If I recall, in your normal world, looking for one's missing father isn't considered crazy," Dean hissed. "And Elle is certainly coming with me."

"She came here, didn't she? Seems to me that she doesn't want to do this anymore, man."

"You haven't seen her in over two years, Sammy. You hardly even know Elle, man."

"Yet somehow she still ended up on my doorstep even after two years of radio silence. What does that say for you?"

"It says—"

"Will you two shut up? Elle can speak for herself you know and Elle thinks that you're both being idiots and are getting off the point. Dad's missing: plain and simple. Sam, Dean wants you to come because he could use your help. Dean, Sam wants you to stop being an ass and listen to him for once. Was that so hard?" Elle finally jumped in. "Boys."

Sam and Dean looked to each other, to Elle, and then back to each other. They knew that Elle wasn't one for speaking her mind unless she absolutely had to or she was incredibly annoyed.

"Silence. Finally, thank you Jesus," Elle muttered.

Dean sighed before he looked Sam straight in the eye once more.

"I'm gonna ask you again, Sammy—"Dean started.

"Nicely," Elle added. "What? It can't hurt."

"Sammy, I'm asking you nicely, are you coming with or not?" Dean asked.

"I already told you that I'm not," Sam said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "And don't call me that."

"And why the hell not?" Dean furthered with an angry tone.

"I swore I was done hunting. For good."

"C'mon, it wasn't always easy, but it wasn't that bad."

"Then why is Elle here? It certainly wasn't a healthy environment for a little girl to be raised."

"I'm not a little girl anymore," Elle hissed, letting her emotions get a hold of her mouth.

"Maybe not, but can you honestly tell me that if you could do it over again that you would choose the way we were raised?" Sam asked.

"You know the answer to that," Elle sighed.

"Exactly my point! Dean, when Elle and I were scared of the thing in the closet, Dad gave me a .45 and told her to grow a pair."

Dean couldn't help but chuckle at the thought John Winchester telling Elle to grow a pair. While he knew deep down Elle was probably scared shitless of most of what they faced, she had managed to mask her fear. On the outside, Elle was probably the most collected and sensible girl he had ever come across; but he also knew his sister. She had plenty of moments when she let her emotions get the best of her; but over the years she had learned to not wear them on her sleeve and instead bury them. After a moment of silence, Dean looked up to Sam who had an incredulous look on his face.

"It's not funny, Dean," Sam hissed.

"Well, what was he supposed to do?" Dean questioned.

"I was nine years old, Dean! Elle was—"Sam said turning toward her.

"Eight," Elle added, clearly disappointed that her own brother didn't even remember how old she was.

"He was supposed to tell us to not be afraid of the dark," Sam finished.

"And a hug or two wouldn't have hurt," Elle muttered to herself so that the boys couldn't hear, but loud enough for her to get it off her chest.

"Don't be afraid of the dark?" Dean scoffed. "Are you freaking kidding me? He did you a favor. Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You two know what's out there and babying the two of you wouldn't have done any good. It could have gotten you killed or worse."

"Yeah, I know that man, but still. The way we grew up, after Mom was killed—"Sam started.

At that moment, Elle could practically see an invisible knife jab Dean in the gut. She wished she could have stopped Sam from going there because he just insulted Dean's attempts to raise them. While she knew that Sam was referring to the way John had raised them, she knew that Dean was going to take it somewhat personally. Dean had tried his best to raise two younger siblings, but it wasn't a responsibility that he should have had in the first place—which was what Sam was getting at—Elle didn't want to see this end badly.

"I—I'm going to wait by the car," Elle said before she pushed past Dean. "Come find me when you're done acting like a bunch of babies and are ready to figure this out rationally."

Elle marched her way across the parking lot to the Impala for effect. They hadn't even left Sam's apartment yet and the arguing had already started. If this was any sign about how the mission to save Dad was going to go…well, to put it frankly, they were doomed. Elle turned back in the darkness to look at the outlines of her brother arguing. She felt somewhat ashamed that she hadn't stood up for Dean. For years Dean had been putting up with people's crap and always stood-up for her; she wished she could do the same for him. Well that and she wanted to give Sam a piece of what was really on her mind. When they found Dad and he was back to his normal life, maybe then she could find the courage to voice what was buried deep within her. Elle ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. She always seemed to have a response for everything, but not for the things that really mattered. Sure, she could give some sort of dry, sarcastic response; but for years now, for the most part, she had buried her true feelings and it would probably come back to bite her in the ass.

When she finally reached the Impala she opened the passenger door and slumped onto the seat. Elle kicked her red Converse onto the dashboard and sat there in the silence, waiting for Sam and Dean to come after her, so to speak. After what seemed like an eternity, but was really only five minutes, Sam and Dean's voices began to drift into the car. They sounded a little more under control than they had earlier, and Elle had her emotions in check, so she stepped out of the car and slowly walked toward her brothers who were standing around the trunk of the car talking somewhat civilly.

"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?" Sam asked Dean.

"He wasn't alone," Elle said calmly lifting her blue eyes in Sam's direction.

"See—I wasn't alone, but c'mon dude, I'm twenty-six," Dean scoffed.

"Elle-Belle's not Dad," Sam stated clearly trying to show the difference between their rough father and her by using his childhood nickname for her.

"When you like Dean calling you Sammy, you can use that stupid nickname," Elle retorted.

"Elle-Belle can kick it in the ass when she has to," Dean smirked toward her as he pulled some papers out of a folder. "Now, back to the case. Here we go. Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy."

Dean handed a sheet of paper over to Sam. Elle took a few steps closer toward Sam so that she could figuratively look over his shoulder, but in reality he was too tall, she needed to stand beside him to see what he saw. The paper in her brother's hand was a computer printout of an article from the Jericho Herald with the caption "Centennial Highway Disappearance." The date was over a month ago: September 19, 2005. There was also a man's picture. His name was Andrew Carey and he was missing. Sam looked at Elle who was attempting to read it as well, so he titled it in her direction. Elle nodded her head at Sam in thanks, even though she had already seen the article before; but at least Sam was still somewhat considerate of some things. Sam cleared his throat.

"Maybe he was just kidnapped, man," Sam said with a shrug.

"Yeah, I thought that at first too," Dean commented before he slipped another piece of paper into Sam's hand. "But here's another one in April. Then December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, ninety-eight, ninety-two—"

"Ten in all over the past twenty years," Elle added as Dean nodded his head and handed the rest of the papers over to Sam.

"I see you've done your research," Sam stated as he thumbed through the papers.

"Yeah, of course I did," Dean scoffed.

"Hem. Hem," Elle cleared her throat.

"Well, Elle did some of it," Dean said.

"Excuse me? If I recall correctly—" Elle began in retort.

"Fine, Elle did most of it. Happy?" Dean said in a low growl.

"I never would have believed that Dean did this much research," Sam said with a wink toward his sister.

"Thank you," Elle said with a smile that she didn't even have to force.

"Who cares who found the damn stuff? There's something going after men on the same five-mile stretch of road," Dean said.

"At least we know I should probably be safe because I don't have a dick," Elle said with a smirk.

"Son-of-a-bitch, Elle, you never let me finish," Dean groaned.

"It's part of the job description, you know, the annoying little sister," Elle retorted.

"I forgot how entertaining this could be," Sam chuckled as he shook his head at his siblings.

"Well who would have thought that I'm the one trying to keep us on track here?" Dean said with a scoff under his breath. "Now the disappearances started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. We hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough—"

Dean took a handheld tape recorder out of his pocket and showed it at Sam and Elle.

"Then, I got this voicemail yesterday—" Dean started.

Elle looked at him in confusion. She knew nothing about a voicemail. Hell, she had been with Dean most of the day on the freaking road. Her emotions were beginning to bubble up again. She could practically feel them eating away inside her. When did he get that voicemail? But more importantly-

"Why didn't you tell me that you heard from him?" Elle hissed.

"Because I knew you'd respond like this," Dean stated directing a hand motion toward her.

"He does have a point," Sam said with a shrug.

"On no, you two do not get to team up against me, not cool, Especially that given just a few minutes ago-" Elle groaned.

"Are you done?" Dean interrupted looking at her with his eyes wide and his lips pressed tightly together.

"Just play the damn tape," Elle muttered as her hand reached for messy hair.

"Thank you," Dean said cheekily.

Elle rolled her eyes in frustration at her brother. She was pretty pissed off that he didn't tell her about the freaking voicemail. Did he really not trust her that much? But she didn't have long to dwell on her anger because Dean hit play on the tape recorder and her father's voice came from the machine. The recording itself was very staticky and the signal was breaking up. Now most people wouldn't think much of what was happening with the recording—but she and her brothers knew better—EVP. Elle attempted to soak in her father's words, but there wasn't even a mention about her—only Dean. Dean—something big is starting to happen—I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may—Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger. Dean stopped the recording and Sam made a mention of the EVP on the recording. Dean couldn't help but smile.

"Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" Dean said.

"Whatever, man," Sam responded with a shake of his head.

"But you obviously knew what it was to begin with—" Elle started.

"That's right, so I slowed the message down and I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what we now have—"Dean said before pressing play again.

This time when he played it, a woman's voice could clearly be hear: I can never go home. The three Winchesters looked to each other when Dean stopped the recording. Sam repeated the woman's words like he was trying to process some hidden meaning to them. Dean dropped the recorder into the trunk, set down the shotgun he had been holding before he stood straight to slam the trunk shut. Dean then leaned against the trunk and looked at Sam, who still appeared to be processing.

"Sammy, you know, in almost two years, we've never bothered you—never asked you for a damn thing," Dean said.

"Just this once," Elle added before tagging on a lie. "I—I need you to keep me from strangling Dean at some point."

"You can't let her to that to my adorable face," Dean said with a smirk.

Sam looked away for a few seconds before he sighed and turned back toward them.

"All right, guys, I'll go. I'll help find him."

Elle breathed an inward sigh of relief that Sam had finally decided to come along. She wasn't sure what his reasons were, but he was coming and that was all she needed to know. She headed to get in the car while Sam went back inside to pack a few things before they headed out. Elle slid into the front seat and closed her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to sleep; but she also knew that the backseat needed some cleaning. Hers and Dean's dirty clothes were scattered across the back. It had been awhile since they had been to a laundry mat. Maybe she could pop a load of clothes in while they were investigating or something. Elle leaned over the backseat and shoved the dirty clothes into a duffel bag, leaving room for one passenger in the back. Dean opened the driver's side door and sat down at the wheel as Sam opened the passenger's side door. Elle looked to him as he nodded his head toward the backseat. She shook her head no. After Sam left she finally worked her way to getting to ride shot-gun and now that he was suddenly back she was expected to go be banished to the backseat again?

"You've got to be kidding me," Elle groaned. "You never called shot-gun and I'm already here."

"C'mon, I need the leg room," Sam argued. "You're smaller."

"I can't help it that I didn't inherit the freakish giant genes. You're discriminating against me because I'm short," Elle retorted.

"I'm sure that argument will hold up in court," Sam said sarcastically. "Please, Elle?"

"Well—"

"Elle, get in the back," Dean said gruffly. "House rules."

"I thought that only applied to music," Elle argued.

"And apparently seating arrangements for your two kids," Dean said. "Not to mention that Sammy will never fit back there with all your crap."

My crap? Elle thought. She slightly narrowed her eyes at Dean before she set her jaw and climbed over the seat and landed not-so-gracefully in the back. As she was trying to situated herself, Sam threw his duffel bag in the back which nearly hit her head. Elle groaned as Sam's door slammed shut and Dean shifted the car into drive. She curled up with the duffel and quickly fell asleep as Sam and Dean sat there in silence, unsure of what to say to each other after years of separation. When Elle finally came to consciousness, Dean was shaking her awake, because they were stopped outside a gas station after a night's worth of driving. Sam was standing just outside the door pumping some gas. Elle could barely lift her head as her eyes failed to adjust to the light.

"Use it or lose it Sleeping Beauty."

With her eyes barely open, she knew her brother was referring to the restroom in the gas station.

"Five more minutes," Elle mumbled as she plopped her head back down onto the bag she had been using as a pillow.

Dean shook his head before he headed inside. Sam must have finished filling the car up because he slid into the front seat as Ramblin Man by the Allman Brothers began to play. He turned around and looked at his baby sister. God, to him, she had grown-up so much since he had left. She was no longer the teenage girl he had left behind. No, she was a grown woman—left to fend for herself with Dean and Dad. He felt a twinge of guilt in his stomach. She was the only regret he had about leaving the life for Stanford. There were times when he had wanted call her to make sure she was all right—or to beg her to change her mind to come live with him—but he never acted on those impulses. And now—here they were. Sam looked out the window to see Dean come walking out the door with his arms full of junk food. Sam turned around and shook Elle. Elle's head popped up once more, with one eye open.

"What is it?" Elle moaned.

"Dean's coming and if you have to go, I'd go now," Sam said.

Elle looked out her window to see Dean drawing nearer. Shit. She scrambled to get out of the backseat with her bag slung across her shoulders before she ran across the asphalt to the convenience mart. Dean called for her to hurry up to which she didn't give him a response. Elle quickly did her morning routine in the bathroom while hoping that Dean didn't take-off without her. He had done that to her several time. Of course, he always managed to swing back around to get her—but that wasn't the point. The point was—he would leave without her. Hopefully, Sam could manage to distract him long enough. Once her teeth were brushed, her hair was untangled, and her bladder relieved, Elle marched outside to find that her brothers were thankfully still there. Dean caught sight of Elle and he honked the horn to which she responded by flipping him the bird. She was barely in the car when Dean began to drive off.

Sam was on the phone when they passed the sign that said it was only seven more miles until Jericho. Jericho—that was a sort of biblical place—if Elle recalled correctly, it was the city where the walls came crashing down by some act of God. While she wasn't exactly sure where she stood on the biblical account of things—she couldn't help but wonder if it was some sort of omen. Were things going to come crashing down on them? She certainly hoped not. Sam closed his phone and announced that there was no one matching Dad's description at the hospital or the morgue. Elle wasn't sure that was a good thing or a bad thing—but according to Sam, it was something. Elle looked ahead to see a bridge and it looked like something was going down. She slightly squinted her eyes to focus. She saw two police cars at the bridge and several officers. Dean pulled over and he must have figured that it was something important because he reached for the glove compartment. Dean pulled out a box of ID cards and picked one out before turning toward Elle.

"Sam—you're with me," Dean said. "Elle, you know what to do."

Elle nodded her head as Sam and Dean got out of the car. She watched as Sam looked like he was trying to get into the role he was about to play; but Elle quickly turned her attention toward her bag. She pulled out a pair of glasses that didn't have a prescription in the lenses and put them on her face—to try and make her look a little older than she was. She then reached for Sam's bag and grinned when she found that he had packed an article of Stanford apparel. She put the enormous sweatshirt on her tiny frame before grabbing a notebook, pen, and digital camera. She then exited the car and walked toward the youngest officer-w— thankfully wasn't talking with Sam and Dean. The man looked to be a rookie-that or extremely nervous which would make Elle's job a whole lot easier. Elle played with her hair as she walked closer to the young officer who was standing several hundred feet away from the river.

"Ex—excuse me officer," Elle stammered, feigning nervousness.

The man quickly turned around and held up a hand. The man was rather attractive and he couldn't have been much older than Dean was.

"Hold it right there miss—this is a—um—a crime scene," the officer said.

"What crime has been committed?"

"We're trying to figure that out. Now I'm going to have to ask you to leave—"

"Wait—no! I'm—uh—I'm with the Stanford Daily and I have a right to be here."

"Identification?"

The officer held out his hand for her to place her ID in. Elle could give him a fake piece of crap ID but one look at the man told her that she could probably get by with some water works. She began to dig in her pockets as her expression as a panicked expression grew on her face.

"No. No. No. This cannot be happening. I drove all freaking night and I forgot my school ID. Great. Just freaking great. My editor is going to kill me—"

At this point tears began to spring from Elle's eyes. Honestly, it wasn't that hard to cry on command. She had plenty of crappy things happen to her in her life. All she had to do was think about one of them and tell her brain not to cry—then BINGO: tears. Elle pushed her fake glasses to the top of her head in order to give the officer a better view of her teary blue eyes. Just as she suspected, the young man was already cringing at the tears.

"Hey now, don't cry miss," the officer begged. "Just—uh—just tell me your name and we'll go from there."

"My name is Jess," Elle sniffled. "Jess—short for Jessica. Jessica Moore."

By now, Elle knew that the best lies originated from the truth. Sure she probably shouldn't have used her brother's girlfriend—but the girl was the first person that popped into her head.

"Well what brings you to town Miss Jessica?"

"It's Jess—and I'm doing a follow-up piece on the disappearance of Andrew Carey."

"Well—we haven't heard any more as far as Mr. Carey is concerned; but this fellow seems to have gone the same way."

"You don't say? You wouldn't happen to have a name, would you?" Elle began furiously writing in the notebook she brought.

"I can't go releasin' information like that—but if you go into town you might find it on some of the missing posters. Not that I told you that, of course."

"Right, thanks though. Now off the record, what do you think is going on?"

"Off the record, none of this makes any sense. I may be a rookie, but we didn't train for this kind of stuff. It's just too clean. Not like any criminal I've ever seen, not that I've been to many. The bad guys always mess up at some point, but this guy—it's just freaky, like out of this world freaky."

"Yeah, totally freaky."

"Quit flirting and get back to work, Zeske," the sheriff shouted as he walked toward the bridge.

The young officer jolted straight before he turned toward the man who must be his superior. Elle inwardly groaned. Just when she was getting somewhere with the guy. Surprisingly, the young officer asked for her notebook and pen. He scribbled something on there and handed it back to Elle. She saw ten digits listed on the top page of her notes.

"Just in case," the man said.

She just nodded her head with a smile and asked if it would be all right if she took a few pictures with her camera. The officer obliged as long as she stayed behind the tape because legally there wasn't anything he could do about it. Elle flashed the man a smile, which she was almost positive, caused the man to blush as he walked away. Being a girl could definitely work in her favor at times. Elle took a few pictures of the water and then angled the camera up toward the bridge. She also couldn't help herself when Dean came into the frame of her camera with his finger near his nose. He was probably just itching the outside of it, but from her angle it looked like he was picking it. With a smirk on her face, Elle slunk back to the Impala, careful that no one saw her get in. She kept low in the backseat, just in case someone passed by—but the smell of the dirty laundry was finally starting to get to her.

Five minutes later, Sam and Dean returned to the car and gave her an update about what they knew. Apparently, one of the officers had a daughter who was dating the young man who was now missing. They didn't get much because according to Dean, Sam was a little rusty at her interrogation skills. Elle found that slightly amusing since Sam was pre-law…well, if he returned to his apple pie, cookie-cutter life after this. Dean then turned the tables toward Elle.

"What did you find out?" Dean asked.

"Not much—the sheriff totally cock-blocked him," Elle responded.

"Good because if he wouldn't have—I certainly would've," Dean said.

"The guy wouldn't have gotten far because unlike you Dean—I happen to have something called dignity and standards."

Sam chuckled until Dean shot him an icy glare. Sam attempted to stifle his laughter as Dean put the car in drive once more. There was one thing they all agreed upon: they had to go into town. On the ride into Jericho Elle showed Sam the picture she had taken of Dean. She was pretty sure Sam was laughing so hard that he could have pissed himself, which caused Elle to laugh and Dean to demand to see the picture. It almost felt like just old times…her and Sammy. But once Elle had the camera back in her possession, that short-lived moment was over and done and thing were back to being complicated again.

As they pulled into town, Elle noticed the marquee on the Highland Movie Theater. It had information about a town meeting and warned people to be safe. Clearly the townspeople were worried. Dean parked the car and the three of them exited the Impala. A young woman was tacking up posters not too far from them. They started toward her when Dean bent his head down toward Elle.

"Elle, scram," Dean whispered.

"What? Why?" Elle questioned.

"Because that poor girl's not gonna talk to us if you're around,"

"Did you ever think that maybe another girl is exactly what she needs?"

"You don't know women like I know them"  
"Clearly I know nothing about girls," Elle said grabbing her boobs.

"You're not exactly a girlie girl, the closest thing you had to a woman growing up was Samantha over here," Dean said jostling his head toward Sam.

"I heard that," Sam said snapping his face toward the conversation.

"A young woman in her position is gonna want a shoulder to cry on—a nice manly shoulder," Dean argued as he reached over and patted Sam's shoulders. "You could go do the laundry or something."

"Wouldn't that be considered women's work? Something I seem to know nothing about?" Elle countered.

"Just go do it," Dean said in an annoyed tone.

Elle eyed Dean for a minute before she folded her arms across her chest and quickly spun on her heel. She was angry—beyond angry—downright pissed off. Dean was choosing Sam over her. She was the one who had been with him when Sam had deserted them. She had stayed. She was the one who put up with him. And yet put Sammy back in rotation, he goes crawling right back to him. If this had been last week when Sam wasn't around, Dean wouldn't have really questioned her coming along. Sometimes being a third-wheel sucked—especially a third wheel in the Winchester siblings. Right about now she wished that Sam hadn't even come along. Then things would at least be normal. Sam screwed everything up in her life—even her relationship with Dean. Hell—maybe even her father whose love she desperately longed for. Then again—that was probably her fatal flaw—thinking that she was never enough.

After grabbing the duffel bag with all the dirty laundry, Elle walked to the closest laundry mat. Seeing as she was still pissed off—she separated the laundry into Dean's clothes and Elle's clothes. She may have accidentally poured some bleach into Dean's washer which had clothes in it that shouldn't have been bleached; but she didn't care. Served him right. Besides, he could easily go out and buy some more clothes with the credit card scams he and Dad ran. While the washing machine ran its cycle, Elle sat and read the old magazines on the table until the washer finished. As she pulled Dean's clothes out, she could already tell that some of his clothes had awkward white spots—including a pair of jeans with a huge white patch in the crotch area. Elle shoved them into a dryer. Just when she finally sat back down she got a text from Dean: Meet us at the library. Elle didn't respond to his text because she was busy doing what girls do—even though she apparently wasn't good at it. As she was folding the laundry she got another text. Where are you? Library. Now. Elle tossed her phone onto the pile of t-shirts she had folded. He probably didn't even know that she was pissed at him—or why. After another ten minutes her phone began to ring. She debated not answering it—but the lady a few feet over was glaring. Elle picked up the phone, but didn't say anything.

"Elle, I know you're there," Dean's voice echoed.

"Congratulations. Figure that one out on your own or did you need Sam's help?" Elle retorted.

"Quit being a little bitch and get your ass down here to the library."

"Sam's there. I'm sure you're fine."

"Dad's missing, so now isn't the time to have one of your hissy fits."

"You're not my boss, Dean."

"Actually I kinda am. But you have seven minutes to get down here before I come after your sorry ass and you know that things won't be pretty if I have to do that."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"FINE!"

Elle slammed her phone shut, not even waiting for Dean's response. She knew that she was being stubborn—and that she shouldn't take things out on Dean; but there were some things she just couldn't help. After pocketing her cellphone, Elle shoved all the clean clothes back into the duffel bag. She felt the slightest twinge of guilt for bleaching Dean's clothes, but her anger didn't let that feeling last long. She threw the duffel over her arm and left the laundry mat but when she got outside, she realized that she didn't know where the library was. She wandered around for longer than the time Dean had allotted to her before she found the building. She was just walking up the steps to the library when Dean met her at the door.

"Took you long enough," Dean commented.

"I got lost. You didn't exactly tell me how to get here," Elle growled.

"Follow me," was all Dean responded.

Dean led Elle through the library. As he did, he explained about local legend the girls had told him about. Apparently there was this woman who was murdered out on Centennial and to this day she hitchhikes and whoever picks her up, disappears. It wasn't the weirdest thing Elle had ever heard, so it could be plausible or at least have some truth to it. Spirits come from violent deaths—and murder is usually a violent way to die. Dean led Elle to a computer Sam was sitting next to with a book in his hand. As Dean sat down to the computer, Elle stood behind him, watching over his shoulder. He opened the web browser and searched for the Jericho Herald. In the search box he typed: Female Murder Hitchhiking. He got nothing.

"Try hitchhiking and Centennial Highway, but put Centennial Highway in quotations," Elle suggested.

"Zero. Zilch. Nadda," Dean commented after he had tried Elle's suggestion.

"Let me try," Sam said as without warning, his hands reached for the keyboard. Dean slapped at Sam's hands.

"I got it," Dean hissed.

But Sam responded by shoving Dean's chair out of the way. Sam then quickly took over the position at the keyboard. He then begins to explain that maybe they're working the Spirit's violent death from the wrong angle. Maybe it wasn't murder—maybe it was suicide. Sam replaced the word hitchhiking with suicide in the search bar and an article title Suicide on Centennial appeared. The three Winchesters look to each other as Sam opened the article dated April 25, 1981. Elle began to read over Sam's shoulder.

A local woman's drowning death was ruled a suicide, the county Sheriff's Department said earlier today. Constance Welch, 24, of 4636 Breckenridge Road, leapt off Sylvania Bridge, at mile 33 of Centennial Highway, and subsequently drowned last night. Deputy J. Pierce told reporters that, hours before her death, Ms. Welch logged a call with 911 emergency services. In a panicked tone, Ms. Welch described how she found her two young children, 5 and 6, in the bathtub, after leaving them alone for several [minutes]. She reported that their complex-

Elle's eyes shifted down to further in the story.

What happened to my children was a terrible accident. And it must have been too much for my wife. Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it," said husband Joseph Welch. "Now I ask that you all please respect my privacy during this trying time." At the time of the children's death and Ms. Welch's subsequent suicide, Mr. Welch was at the Frontier auto salvage yard, where he works the graveyard shift as associate manager." Connie might have been quiet, but she was the sweetest, most caring girl I ever knew," said Deanna Kripke, a neighbor. "She just doted on those children."

That would do it. The woman was probably so distraught from losing her babies that things hadn't exactly gone as expected when she threw herself over that bridge. Elle's eyes looked to the picture with the article. Her eyes flickered with interest as she pulled her digital camera out of her other bag she was toting around as Sam began explaining things aloud to Dean. She scrolled back until she had the picture she was looking for.

"The bridge look familiar to you?" Dean asked.

"A little," Elle said sarcastically as she handed Dean her digital camera. Her picture was taken from almost the exact angle the one attached to the article was taken at.

"Anyone up for a little moonlight stroll?" Sam said.

The Three Winchesters found themselves at the Sylvania Bridge. Dean parked the Impala at the end of the bridge before they all got out and walked along the bridge. Elle came to a stop and had to practically get on her tippy-toes to see over the railing down into the river. Sam and Dean stood on either side of her also looking down into the dark river. Elle watched the water running underneath her. She had learned a lot of things growing up—especially about ganking ghosts; but something she had never had time for was learning how to swim. She knew it was rather pathetic that at twenty-one years of age that she didn't know how to swim; but she never really had anyone to teach her.

"So this where Constance took the swan dive," Dean commented.

"Not exactly the way I'd want to go—but to each their own," Elle responded.

"So you guys think Dad would have been here?" Sam asked.

"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him," Dean said.

"Makes sense," Elle added.

"Okay, so now what?" Sam questioned.

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while—" Dean started.

"Dean, I told you man that I've gotta get back by Monday—" Sam interrupted.

Of course things grew tense between the two brothers again as they began to get into it about Sam's want for the cookie-cutter lifestyle. It was pretty much the Winchester way to butt heads on everything. Between the three of them, one of them was always bound to be the odd man out. Elle often wondered if this was the dynamic between a normal family. She was pretty sure that it wasn't, but the Winchesters never were nor would they ever be considered a normal family. Elle was done getting her emotions toyed with for the day, so she remained rather pensive and silent—choosing to watch the scene that was unfolding before her. Dean brought up Jess and how that she doesn't know a thing about what they do. Sam argued that she was never going to and Dean called him out on facing up to who he really was. Dean told Sam that he was one of them—always would be; but Sam didn't want to hear that and argued against it. Sam made a pop-shot comment about Dad before he played the dead mom card, which immediately pissed Dean off. It pissed him off enough to grab Sam by the collar and shove him against the railing of the bridge. At this point Elle intervened and pushed one of Dean's shoulders to get him off Sam. Dean took a step back his hands practically shaking. As he took another step away his eyes widened.

"Sam, Elle," Dean muttered.

They see Constance looking over at them. She is standing on the edge of the bridge and she looks over at the Winchesters before she steps forward off the edge. The three of them look over the railing and try to see where she went. None of them had any luck at spotting her. Suddenly, behind them, the Impala's engine starts and its headlights come on. Elle, Sam, and Dean turn to look at the car and then look to each other. The engine gives a rev.

"What the—" Dean started.

"Who's driving your car?" Sam asked.

Dean pulled the keys out of his pocket and jingled them. Elle and Sam both looked to Dean before looking back to the car. Elle said what was all on their minds.

"I think we found her," Elle whispered.

The car jerked into motion and headed straight for them, with Constance in charge. Not good, definitely not good. The three of them turn to run. Sam shouted for them to go as the car began speeding down the bridge faster and faster toward them. It is going faster than they are. When they realize this, Sam and Dean easily climb over the railing due to their towering height; but Elle's lack-thereof proved to be her downfall. The Impala was several yards from her when she climbed a little higher on the railing, but she still couldn't swing her legs over the top. Sam and Dean each took hold of one of her hands and jerked her the rest of the way across the railing. They jerked a little too hard though because Elle didn't stop on the edge like her brothers. Instead, she felt herself flying into the air before her body plummeted into the dark, cold river below. Her screams filled the eerily silent night air until there was a loud splash. Sam and Dean looked to each other.

"Elle!" Sam and Dean shouted simultaneously only to receive no response.

"She's going to be fine, right?" Sam asked Dean.

"Damnit, she can't swim," Dean hissed.

Without even waiting for a response from Sam, Dean released his grip on the bridge and dropped into the water below to save his sister, shouting his sister's name his entire trip down. He hit the water forcefully, so it took him a bit longer to reach the surface than normal. He gasped for breath when he finally got top side. He called Elle's name and he treaded water to stay afloat with the current of the river. He could hear Sam calling Elle's name, but somewhere in the silence he heard soft cries coming from a bit downstream. Dean called Elle's name and he heard his name called faintly.

"Elle just keep talking," Dean called.

Dean let himself float downstream as Elle's talking grew louder.

"Constance is a stupid bitch. She didn't even follow her own freaking rules. I'm not a guy. I have boobs. They're not hard to notice. Do you hear that Constance? I have boobs!"

Dean chuckled as he spit some of the murky water out of his mouth. Thankfully, the moonlight gave Elle's position away. She was clinging tightly to a rock that was protruding from the water. Thankfully, they hadn't fallen on that. Dean swam over to his sister and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I got you baby sister," Dean said. "Just hold on to me."

"That was a pretty stupid thing to do—coming after me like that," Elle said as she clung tightly to Dean as he steered them toward shore.

"I just saved you—you should be thanking me," Dean said.

Elle was speechless for a moment before the real tears came on. She was a blubbering mess as Dean finally got them to shore. Not to mention that the two of them were covered head to toe in mud.

"Thank you for coming after me," Elle blubbered. "I thought I was going to die."

"Not on my watch, Elle," Dean said.

"I'm sorry for acting like a bitch."

"You're a girl, it happens…frequently."

"And I'm sorry for bleaching all your clothes."

"You bleached my clothes? Damnit Elle."

"I said I was sorry!"

Sam was calling both Dean's and Elle's names until Dean finally called up to him that they were all right. Dean and Elle rested on shore for a few minutes in silence before Dean started to chuckle. Elle slowly turned toward her brother with a puzzled expression on her face. It was the first time she heard him genuinely laugh since Dad had gone missing.

"What?" Elle groaned.

"So much for being safe because you don't have a dick," Dean teased.

"Shut up. You're being a dick right now."

"That's probably because I have one."

"If I wasn't in so much pain I'd smack you."

After several more minutes of just lying there on the bank, Dean helped Elle onto her feet and guided her back up to the bridge. She looked up to the stars that twinkled overhead. She normally didn't believe in lucky stars, guardian angels, or whatnot—but there was no way she and Dean should have survived that fall. Somehow they were alive. How? She wasn't sure—but she had a feeling that something was watching over them.

Elle rested while Dean checked out the car to make sure it was all right. He didn't find anything wrong with it and after Sam made a comment that the two of them smelled like a toilet, the two brothers helped Elle into the car. Sam gave up his front seat because it was easier to get her in there. Dean then drove them to a motel, where Elle waited in the Impala while Sam and Dean checked in. She fell asleep and after the ordeal they had just been through, neither Sam nor Dean wanted to wake her. Instead Sam picked his little sister up in his arms and carried her to the motel room. Sam looked down at her as she seemed to cuddle close to him while he waited for Dean to unlock the room. She looked so broken—so fragile. It was strange seeing Elle like this. It was a whole other side to his sister that he hadn't really considered existed. It had probably been there the whole time—but she buried that part of her. She shouldn't have to do that. She shouldn't have to live the life that they lived. This life wasn't for her. He knew that Dean probably wasn't going to like it, but when he got back to Stanford, he wasn't going to take no as an answer from Elle. If he was getting out—then so was she.

Elle slept longer than she had anticipated. In fact, she slept so long that Sam and Dean were gone when she woke up. They had left her a note saying something about going to find the room Dad was apparently using. When they found out about that, she didn't know; but she was at least thankful that they left her a couple donuts on the table. But on to top it off, they were her favorite: glazed sour cream donuts. Elle hadn't realized how hungry she was until she practically inhaled two donuts. Now all she had left to do was wait for her brothers to return. While she waited, she took a long hot shower and then crawled back into bed to watch some TV because her body was still quite sore from last night. When the boys finally returned to the room, Elle was already asleep again, propped up on some pillows with the TV on some sort of afternoon soap opera. Dean walked over the Elle's bedside.

"Constance really did a number on Elle—stupid bitch. When I get my hands on her—" Dean growled.

"I'm right there with you, man," Sam responded.

"No one gets to hurt her like this while I'm around."

"I'm surprised she hasn't gotten hurt worse before."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dean, I don't want to fight; but can you honestly tell me that this is what is right for Elle? The life that she deserves?"

"No one deserves this, Sammy; but someone's gotta do it and it might as well be us."

Sam didn't get to divulge his plan to Dean, because Elle's bright blue eyes fluttered open. She slowly sat up, cringing with almost every move she made. Dean looked almost uncomfortable at his sister's pain. He moved to sit on the bed across from her.

"What did you find out?" Elle asked hoarsely.

"We're dealing with a woman in white," Dean responded.

"Great—another corpse to dig up," Elle groaned.

"That's not all we found," Sam responded.

With a slight smile on his face, Sam pressed a picture into Elle's hand. The picture showed John, Dean, Sam, and Elle many…many years ago. They were sitting on the hood of the Impala. John was holding onto Sam; while Dean was holding onto Elle. Things seemed so much simpler back then—when they had no freaking clue what was going on in the world. While Elle was looking at the picture, Sam sat down on the bed as he held his phone to his ear. Dean slapped Sam on the shoulder before he stood once more.

"Hey, I don't know about you two, but I'm starving. I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. Either of you want anything?" Dean asked.

"No," Sam responded flatly.

"Aframaian's buying," Dean said enticingly.

"The answers still now."

"How 'bout you Elle? Can I interest you in some pie?"

"You're the one with the pie obsession," Elle chuckled.

"Really? What if they happen to have some pumpkin pie? You'd actually have the will-power to turn it down?"

"Fine, if there's some pumpkin I'll take some. But I'd prefer a main meal first."

"What do you want?"

"Surprise me."

Dean clicked his tongue and pointed in Elle's direction before he left the motel room. Still feeling tired, even though she had already slept most of the day, Elle closed her eyes. She was almost asleep again, when Sam's voice oozed panic. Her eyes quickly focused on Sam who looked to Elle before he hung up the phone. Sam rushed over to his sister and pulled her to her feet, despite her groaning. He helped her over to a chair before he began shoving everything they had lying around the room into a duffel bag.

"We gotta go—we've been made," Sam said.

"What about Dean?" Elle questioned.

"He says they already spotted him. He's probably gonna do something idiotic to give us time to get the hell out of Dodge."

"I worry about him sometimes. Well—more like all the time."

"We'll have more time for worrying in the car."

Sam helped Elle get to the Impala. She was in a lot worse shape than she should be after that much sleep. She probably should have been admitted to a hospital if they had been in a normal situation. Elle slumped into the front seat before Sam slid in beside her through the driver's side. This was definitely a rare occurrence—especially given the past few years. The engine began to roar before Sam pulled out of the parking lot. They drove around for a while making sure that no one was on their tails before Sam decided to drive over to pay Joseph Welch a visit. Sam parked the car at the end of the driveway. He and Elle sat there in silence for a few moments before he awkwardly turned toward his sister.

"Do you wanna come with me or stay in the car?" Sam asked.

"That depends, do you need me to go with you or do you think you can handle it?" Elle responded with her own questions.

"I'm capable of asking a few questions, Elle. But I could always use your help. Just like old times."

"Well as much as I'd love a trip down Memory Lane, I think I'm gonna opt out."

"That's fine. Just wanted to make sure that you knew you had a choice. A choice to do either and that no matter what your decision was—it was the right decision."

"I have a feeling that's supposed to be deeper than here and now. But right now we need to get Joseph Welch to squeal—because now we're down Dad and Dean."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

Sam opened the car door.

"Sam."

"Yeah?"

"Tell Welch his wife's a bitch for me."

"You sound like Dean."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"We used to have to pay you to cuss and swear."

"Ah—yes, my first job. Well, what can I say things change; but what doesn't change is that Constance is a bitch—or loser if your sentimental heart is yearning for the good ol' days but loser hardly seems harsh enough."

"I'll be right back." Sam responded with a chuckle.

Sam reached over and ruffled Elle's hair—just like old times and she swatted at his hand—just like old times. The truth was she wasn't staying in the car because she was in so much pain. No, she had worked through physical pain before. She stayed in the car because she didn't want to fall back into the swing of things with Sam. She didn't want to get reacquainted with the how things used to be—only to have him leave again and go back to his life with Jess. About twenty minutes later, Sam marched back to the Impala.

"And?" Elle asked.

"And he's the reason Constance is a woman in white," Sam answered.

"He told you he was unfaithful?"

"Not exactly; but it was the way he said what he said. You could just tell, you know?"

"Why is it that whenever women do unimaginable, terrible things; a man is normally the root of her problem?"

"I have a feeling that's supposed to be deeper than here and now?" Sam said repeating her words from earlier.

"It's a freaking observation, that's all."

"Sorry for asking." Sam muttered.

"So, any idea how to get Dean out of jail?" Elle sighed.

"I have one, but it's pretty illegal."

"When has that ever stopped us?"

Sam chuckled as he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket. Given his tone of voice, he must have called 911. Well, that and he gave a completely bogus speech about shots being heard on Whiteford Road, one of the roads they had just passed. Elle shook her head with a smirk—just like old times, whether she liked it or not. Sam's face had a broad grin when he finally hung up the phone.

"That should buy Dean some time," Sam smirked.

"Is this a tactic you plan on using with all your clients?' Elle said light heartedly.

"Only a select few," Sam said with a smile.

Elle have him a half-smile back before he returned his eyes to the road. About ten minutes later, Elle's phone began to ring. She pulled it out of her pocket and saw an unfamiliar number flash across the screen. She put it on speakerphone before she answered it so that Sam was in on the conversation in case it was Dean.

"Fake 911 phone call? I'm surprised Mr. Pre-Law there let you do it."

"Actually, I didn't. He did," Elle said.

"Sammy, I'm impressed. That sort of thing is illegal, isn't it?"

"You're welcome," Sam grinned.

"Listen, we gotta talk," Dean said.

"Tell me about it. So Welch was unfaithful," Sam said.

"That means you were right about the woman in white thing," Elle added.

"But get this, man, she's buried behind her old house. So theoretically, that should have been Dad's next stop."

"Would you two shut up for a second? I mean I'm glad you're not at each other's throats and all—" Dean interrupted.

"But Elle and I can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet," Sam continued.

"Sammy, that's what I'm trying to tell you, if you'd give me a freaking second. He's gone. Dad left Jericho," Dean groaned.

"What? How do you know that?" Elle questioned.

"I've got his journal."

"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing," Sam added.

"Yeah, well, I guess this time he did."

Elle froze at those words. Was this moment supposed to compare to the moment when Jericho's walls fell? Dad was gone and it felt like everything was coming crashing down. But now that the walls had fallen, what side was she on? Would she be like those inside the walls that died from the attack after or would she be like those who pillaged the place and came out on top of things, despite the overwhelming odds against them. She was probably over-analyzing the situation—drawing parallels where parallels weren't needed to be drawn; but she couldn't exactly help it. She completely missed out on the rest of the conversation between Sam and Dean. The only reason she was drawn out of her thoughts was because of the figure clad in white in the middle of the road in front of them.

"Sam!" Elle screamed.

Sam slammed on the brakes causing Elle to drop the phone. Constance was on the road in front of them; but Sam didn't stop fast enough. Instead the car went right through her before Sam brought the Impala to a halt. Dean's voice echoed from the phone which had flown into the backseat. Sam and Elle breathe hard for a moment before Elle turns toward the backseat to grab the phone, but she freezes.

"Take me home."

Constance was now in the backseat of the Impala.

"You have got to be shitting me," Elle groaned.

"Take me home!" Constance repeated in a harsher tone.

"No," Sam said breathing heavily.

"Take. Me. Home."

"I don't know that you've been told this recently, but you're stupid. I have boobs and no dick. You can't kill me. What's so hard to get about that?" Elle argued to Constance.

"She's a woman in white and it does take two to tango," Sam whispered.

Elle looked at Sam incredulously for what he was implying. She then turned back to Constance once again.

"I'm not a cheating whore either, you bitch."

Constance glared at them and then the doors locked themselves. Both Sam and Elle struggled to open them; but the locks wouldn't budge. The gas pedal pressed down and the car suddenly began to drive itself. Sam attempted to steer the car, but the wheel wouldn't follow what he was trying to make it to.

"Great Elle, you pissed her off even worse," Sam groaned.

"I can't help it the woman can't take a hint," Elle retorted. "I didn't sign up for the Magical Mystery Tour."

"Looks like you get a free ride."

Sam and Elle continued to try and open the doors; but their hard work was useless. Constance was controlling everything about the Impala and the two Winchester siblings had nothing to control Constance seeing as all their weapons were currently in the trunk. The Impala roared down the road and Elle's eyes flashed outside as they passed a sign for Breckenridge Road. She knew where Constance was taking them now. She was taking them home. The car pulled up in front of Constance's old house and it stopped. The engine shut off and the lights dimmed. Sam attempted to plead once more with the woman in white and for a moment there, it sounded like there was a real sadness to her voice.

"I can never go home."

"You're scared to go home," Sam said.

Suddenly, Constance was no longer in the backseat. Elle gave a shrill scream when the woman in white appeared in the front seat between her and Sam. Maybe the woman had finally figured out that Elle wasn't her type because she crawled onto Sam's lap. The woman begged Sam to hold her. Sam struggled to keep Constance from pressing what should have been her body close to his.

"You can't kill be. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!" Sam argued.

"You will be," Constance shrilled.

"What about Elle? She's not your type."

The woman white hissed before looking at Elle. Suddenly, the strings on her hooded sweatshirt began to wrap around her neck and pull tighter. Elle's fingers reached to her neck to try and get the strings off her neck; but she could feel herself beginning to choke. Constance didn't want Elle interfering as the woman in white begged Sam to hold her before she started kissing him. If Elle wasn't slowly becoming asphyxiated, she probably would have been completely disgusted that a dead person was trying to tongue her brother. Sam's name was the only thing Elle could say as she saw him struggle for something before he yelled out in pain. Next thing she knew, she heard the sound of a shotgun go off and suddenly the window to the car was shattered. That must have scared Constance off because Elle's sweatshirt strings fell limp and she could breathe again. It was Dean who was firing shots at Constance. Elle ducked down lower into the seat so that she wouldn't be a target. She also pulled her sweatshirt off, not wanting to give Constance the opportunity to strangle her with it again. Dean continued to fire until Constance disappeared again. Sam quickly managed to sit up before he started the car.

"Elle, stay low—we're taking her home."

Elle wasn't sure what Sam meant as the car lurched forward. She knew that there wasn't a road left in front of them. Only…the house. The Impala crashed through the side of the house. Shards of glass, splintered wood, and dust flew everywhere. Elle tried to cover herself with her sweatshirt until it finally all came to a stop. Dean rushed into the house after them.

"Sam! Elle! You guys okay?" Dean shouted.

"I think I am—" Sam groaned. "Elle?"

"Everything just hurts," Elle muttered. "And I still think she's a bitch."

Sam chuckled as Dean helped him out of the car. But before either boy could get to Elle, Constance decided she wasn't finished with them yet. A bureau moved from the wall to pin Sam and Dean against the car and the lights began to flicker. Elle could hear the sound of water pouring, but she had no idea where it was coming from. Great. Was Constance planning on drowning them now? Elle slowly climbed onto the seat again and when she looked out the window of the Impala, she saw to figures that looked like children hugging Constance. A piercing shrill echoed through the house until suddenly, Constance and the children were gone. Dean and Sam managed to push the bureau across the floor that had once held them pinned. The boys quickly rushed to Elle's side and each gave her a hand to help her out of the car. Feeling a little light-headed, she needed someone to lean against, so Elle leaned heavily against Dean. For a moment, Elle swore she could have saw a flash of jealousy flicker across Sam's face, but when she looked at him again, whatever she thought she saw was no longer there.

Dean, oblivious to what had just passed between his siblings brought Constance back up again. The reason she was too scared to go home was because it was where she had drowned her kids. Elle shivered slightly at the thought of being so distraught. Okay, so maybe in real-life, the woman wasn't as much of a bitch as she was in the afterlife; but she was still glad that they managed to gank Constance. Elle sighed as she leaned her head against Dean once more who took one look over at his car and shook his head.

"If you two screwed up my car, I'll kill the both of you."

She knew Dean was joking—sort of—but if she wouldn't have known her brother like she did, she would have thought that he was serious. After getting most of the crap out of the Impala and getting it out of the house again, Sam, Dean, and Elle hit the road again. Elle sprawled out in the backseat and welcomed sleep. She was awake long enough to hear Sam say something about Blackwater Ridge, Colorado; but she wasn't exactly sure the importance of it. Next thing she knew, she was asleep and dreaming. In her dream there was a lake, with a starry night's sky overhead that was mirrored on the water's surface. She recognized this place as probably one of her favorite places she had ever been—somewhere in northern Wisconsin—but the beauty of it all was enough to take her breath away. She came here often in her dreams. It was the one place she felt at peace despite her crazy life. Besides, it seemed like her inner-self found clarity here.

When Elle finally awoke, she remained rather quiet and reserved for the remainder of the car ride. She wasn't exactly sure what to say. Sam seemed almost nervous when they finally pulled up in front of his apartment. As Dean put the car in park, he frowned at Sam. Sam exhaled slowly before turned around toward his little sister.

"Elle-Belle, can I have a minute?" Sam asked.

"Um—yeah, I guess," Elle muttered.

Sam got out of the door and Elle pushed the seat forward and followed behind him. Dean gave her a look of confusion to which she responded with an eyebrow raise at him. Elle hadn't a clue what this was about—but whatever it was, Sam didn't want Dean involved. Dean gave some snarky comment about just waiting there as Sam closed the door behind Elle. Elle folded her arms across her chest as she looked up at her tall brother, who had put his hands in his coat pockets.

"Elle, stay," Sam said.

"Here? With you and your girlfriend?" Elle questioned.

"Yeah, you'll be safe here. I promise."

"What about Dad? What about Dean?"

"They know how to fend for themselves. It's you I worry about. I made a mistake by not dragging you out here with me last time. I won't make the same mistake twice."

"You don't know how long I've waited to hear those words from you."

"Good, so we'll just go tell Dean that you're staying."

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"I mean that I'm not staying with you. Sam, you don't know me anymore. You have no reason to tell me what I can and can't do."

"But Dean can?"

"Dean never left me and so I won't do it to him. You have no idea what you leaving did to him."

"Don't you get it? That life isn't safe and it certainly isn't for you. Dean's only human and he can't always be looking out for you."

"I'm more than capable of holding my own."

"You do realize how many times you almost died on this little excursion, right?" Sam argued.

"Because you were throwing things off. Dean and I-we have a system."

"Elle, think rationally about this."

"I am, Sam. Things aren't like 'the good ol' days' when it seemed like it was us against the world. I don't know you anymore and I don't know that I even trust you anymore. For years I wanted you to come for me—like a knight in shining armor—but more in a brotherly way, of course; but now that you have—I have to confess that I'm disappointed."

"Elle, I—"

"Dean's waiting, Sam. Why don't we just pick this up again, next time—in like five years. That should be long enough for you to live normally without us bothering you."

Elle sharply turned on her heel and marched back to the Impala. She focused on not crying. She didn't want to give Sam the satisfaction of being able to influence her emotions like that and she didn't want Dean to get involved either. Her eyes stung, so Elle wiped at them. She was about to open the car door when she looked backward to see Sammy just standing there in confusion. This wasn't the outcome he had pictured but he also hadn't anticipated Elle being so hostile toward him. Their relationship really had changed and unlike Dean, Elle wasn't willing to pick up right where they left off. Elle slid into the front seat of the car and focused straight ahead, but she knew that Dean's eyes were on her.

"What was that about?" Dean asked.

"Nothing," Elle said stubbornly.

Dean didn't say anything else to her because Sam had walked around to his side of the car and leaned through the window.

"Call me if you find him, all right?"

Dean nodded his head, but Elle refused to look at Sam. Sam slowly nodded his head before he backed away from the car. He patted the car door twice before he turned away. Dean called after Sam and told him that the three of them made hell of a team. Surprisingly, Sam agreed; but Elle refused to even look at Sam. Dean found this rather odd; but he pulled away, leaving Sam behind. Dean looked over at Elle and shook his head.

"Nothing my ass."

That was all Dean said. He probably just assumed that Elle would tell him eventually—but she wasn't sure that she ever would. Dean seemed to have enjoyed his time with Sam and Elle didn't want to ruin that by telling him that Sam wanted her to leave him. Elle leaned her elbow against the door and rested her head against her hand. The sooner they got the hell out of Dodge, the sooner things would hopefully go back to normal. Although, she never should that let that thought cross her mind because as soon as she did, the radio began to go in and out and it's light began to flicker. Dean looked to Elle before he looked to his watch, which had stopped ticking.

"Sam." Dean and Elle breathed simultaneously.

Dean tightly gripped the steering wheel, causing the Impala to make a U-turn. Elle's knuckles whitened as her grasp on the door tightened. At this moment she hoped—even prayed that it wasn't Sam, but her gut feeling told her that it was. What if Sam's last memory of her—was of her being a bitch to him? She wasn't sure that she could live with herself if he was dead. Dean parked the car and told Elle to stay put before he took off inside. Elle worriedly sat in the Impala as she saw a flash of fire come from inside. Her stomach plummeted. Oh shit. Definitely not good. For several minutes, Elle just sat there-hoping, praying that her brothers were all right. Finally, she saw Dean emerge with his arm wrapped around Sam who appeared to be fighing to go back inside. But it was too late. Elle didn't see Jess. Had she gone the same way Mom had? She didn't know much about it-but things seemed eerily similar. This was more than just a coinsidence-it was a sign.

As the police and firefighters began to arrive, Elle slowly made her way out of the car and walked toward her brothers. She wasn't sure what to do in this situation. She should be reaching out to Sam-but things were more than jsut a little awkward between the two of them. Elle stood beside Dean in silence. Dean must have noticed the silence because he nudged Elle. She saw Sam look at her, but she just turned her face away in shame, which caused Sam's facial expression to harden a little more. He muttered something about where Dean parked the car before he walked away from them. Dean looked over his shoulder to watch Sam walk away—giving the guy his space. He then turned to Elle, whose eyes were focused on the building—the very building she could have been in, if she hadn't been such a bitch about things. Dean wrapped an arm around his sister and pulled her close. Elle breathed heavily.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on with you two?"

"Honestly, I don't even know anymore. I feel that things just went from bad to worse and it's mainly my fault."

"I know I'm no Dr. Phil—but you should probably talk to him."

"You're right, you're not Dr. Phil."

"Just talk to him. He's needs us right now. Both of us."

Elle and Dean walked back to the Impala where they found Sam standing behind the open trunk. He held a shotgun in his hand, loading it with rounds. Dean and Elle stopped beside him, but neither said anything. They just let Sam do, whatever it was he thought he needed to do. Sam looked up and them before he sighed and tossed the shotgun back into the trunk. Elle took a step closer toward her mourning brother.

"Sam, I—"Elle stammered unsure of what to say, especially after the way she left him.

"I don't wanna talk about it," Sam muttered. "We got work to do."

Elle looked to Dean, who shrugged his shoulders as if to say give it some time. Sam slammed the trunk shut before all three Winchesters took their old positions in the Impala. Everything had changed.


	3. Wendigo

Elle sat crossed-legged in the back of the Impala as they sped down some highway headed toward Blackwater Ridge, Colorado. The only sound inside the car was Dean's music. To say that this past week, the week following Jess's death had been awkward for the three Winchesters would have been an understatement. Sam flat-out refused to have almost anything to do with Elle—it seemed like he was taking out his anger on his sister. If she walked in on a conversation that he was having with Dean, things would suddenly get quiet. Or if they were forced to be in the same room, Sam made it blatantly obvious that he wanted nothing to do with her by facing the opposite direction. Sam was being childish and stubborn; but that didn't make Elle a saint about things either. If Sam was going to play that game-she could play it better. Of course, the behaviors of the two youngest Winchesters did nothing to keep Dean sane. He wasn't exactly sure what to do. He needed Elle to stop acting like a little bitch to Sam—but how long was Sam going to go through this grieving process? The past week of trying to track down any clues about Jess's death had been absolutely useless and Dean knew that staying in that town—where Jess died—where Sam and Elle had their huge blowout fight—wasn't going to help them. Being the oldest—and wisest—Dean made a family decision for the three of them to hit the road and head for Colorado. This was what he needed to do to keep his siblings from killing each other, not to mention to keep his sanity. Who would've thought that ganking whatever the hell was out there would be a way to stay sane? But with the situation being what it was—it was the only way he figured things could get somewhat back to normal or as close to normal as possible.

Sam suddenly bolted upright and looked around the car. He must have been asleep. Not wanting to catch her brother's eye, she reached down toward the floor for her backpack. As Dean began to interrogate Sam about how he was doing, Elle pulled out her sketchbook and pencil to distract herself. She knew that attempting to draw in the car was practically useless, but she needed something to busy herself with. She flipped to her most recent sketch—a drawing of Constance aka the Woman in White. Some might consider it a terrible habit—the fact that after they ganked whatever it was they were after—she would sketch a picture of it. She wasn't a great artist by any means, but it was a way she found a sort of release. Besides, it was one thing she at least knew she was better at than her brothers. One of the few things in life where she came out on top. As Sam and Dean continued to talk, Elle shaded Constance's hair a bit darker with her pencil. Constance was probably the one thing she had hunted that she had a personal sense of hatred for. Normally, it wasn't good in this business to get emotionally attached to anything—whether in a good or bad sense—it could prove to be one's downfall. With a sigh Elle set her sketchbook down as she heard Dad being brought into the conversation. Sam was convinced that they needed to see Dad immediately but Dean argued that they needed to follow Dad's coordinates he had given them. Elle was hesitant to agree with either of them because it would somehow come back to bite her in the ass. Either way both of her brothers agreed that they needed to find Dad—something she fully supported. Deep down, Elle hoped that they would find their father and that maybe he would let her hunt with him. That maybe he would let her prove herself to him and then he would finally express the sentiments she had waited years for.

"Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?" Sam asked.

"It's Dad—you think you would have learned by now to stop asking stupid questions," Elle commented sarcastically.

"Elle," Dean hissed. "Shut up."

"You think you would have learned by now that Dad doesn't give a shit," Sam said as he turned around toward his sister, ignoring Dean.

"Didn't you just say that we need to find him? Hypocrite much?" Elle retorted.

"Just because I said that we need to find him doesn't mean I'm not realistic about the situation—unlike you."

"If I'm being unrealistic than you're just as bad maybe even worse—thinking you could live an apple-pie life and somehow not drag an innocent person into all of this."

Elle instantly regretted those words as soon as they came out of her mouth. That was low—and she knew it. She actually liked Jess, but now she was using her as a gimmick to shove in her brother's face. Sam's jaw was set and Dean didn't look any happier about what she said, but he was keeping his mouth shut because he knew that the two of them had to hash things out some time or another. Besides, wasn't that part of his purpose for the whole trip? But no one spoke for a moment—trying to process the harsh words that had just been spoken. It was Sam who faced the front again that finally broke the silence as they drove past the National Forest sign that read "Welcome to LOST CREEK COLORADO National Forest."

"Well that plan's gone to hell, hasn't it?"

"Sam—I didn't mean—"

"You said them, Elle. So somewhere deep inside—you meant them."

"Don't go all Freudian slip on me. People say things they don't mean."

Sam didn't respond.

"Sam," Elle pleaded. "I'm sorry. God, how many more times do I have to say it? I'm sorry."

"That's just it Elle—you haven't said it. At least not a time that I believed it."

"Because you won't let me."

"Dr. Phil's going to have to be continued later because we're here," Dean interrupted as the Impala came to a stop. "Do we need the leave your shit in the car while in public speech for the two of you?"

"You're one to talk," Elle scoffed.

"Hey man, I'll behave if she does," Sam offered.

"Real mature," Elle hissed.

"Sam! Elle! I don't want to do this but—" Dean started, but before Dean could finish his sentence, both Sam and Elle were already out of the car and had slammed their car doors on him. "Who would've thought that I'd actually be the mature one."

Elle made a face to Dean through the window to hurry up as she and Sam walked a distance a ways from each other toward the Ranger station. Dean muttered under his breath. Did he really have to do everything? He just hoped this cold war between Sam and Elle would be over with soon. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take—because he didn't want to take sides—it would only make things worse. He knew that the longer they stretched this out—the more likely he was to have to choose a side. Dean quickly fixed his hair using the rearview mirror before he stepped out of the car and caught up to Elle who was a few paces behind Sam.

"Don't say anything, Dean," Elle said rather shortly.

"Who said I was gonna say something?" Dean asked gruffly.

"Because I know you—not to mention that I already know what you're gonna say anyway. 'Quit being a little bitch, Elle.' Well, I'm not doing it on purpose, Dean. So just save your breath."

"Actually, I was just gonna ask if you thought this place had any beer."

Elle rolled her eyes at Dean. She knew he was lying about the beer thing—well, he was probably using it as a cover up; but she knew him better than that. After all, she had spent her whole damn life with him—she knew most of his tells by this point. Surprisingly, Sam actually held the door open for her; but it was probably because there was a little old lady in front of her and he didn't want to look like a dick in front of the elderly woman. Elle muttered her thanks to Sam, but was careful to avoid any eye contact with him as she stepped into the rustic decorated Ranger Station. She looked around and moved slowly behind the old lady to the 3D map of the national forest. Sam must have had the same idea as her because they both reached the display at the same time. The siblings looked to each other awkwardly before Dean slapped both of their shoulders before he gave them a warning.

"Play nice."

That was all Dean said before he walked around and mimicked the faces of the stuffed mounts on the wall. Elle shook her head at Dean before she looked to Sam as she pushed a strand of hair that had fallen from her ponytail behind her ear. She looked at him innocently, biting her bottom lip. She should say something, right?

"I—um—I suppose it couldn't hurt to have two sets of eyes on this," Elle commented lightly.

"I was—uh—thinking the same thing," Sam said.

"Good, Dean probably can't read the damn thing."

"I heard that!" Dean called.

That managed a choked back chuckle from Sam before he focused his eyes on her seriously.

"But this doesn't change anything, Elle. We're going to work together for Dean—and to find Dad—but you and me—"

"Yeah, I get it."

Elle defensively folded her arms across her chest as she looked away from Sam and back to the map.

"So it's looking like Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote," Sam said.

Sam pointed to the ridge appropriately labeled Blackwater Ridge. Elle nodded her head as she looked to where he pointed. She traced her fingers along the ridge and slid down what was a steep fall before looking to Sam once more.

"It's cut off by these canyons right here—" Elle started.

"And according to the legend, it's also rough terrain and dense forest in the area too. Not to mention the abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place," Sam added.

"Think we can get rich quick?" Elle joked.

"They're abandoned for a reason," Sam said flatly.

"I was just kidding," Elle sighed. "Trying to lighten the mood."

"Don't—just work. That's all."

"If that's what you want."

"It is."

"Dude, check out the size of this freaking bear." Dean said in amazement.

Surprisingly, Sam and Elle had the same reaction. They both shook their heads before looking to each to each other—just like old times—but when they made eye contact with the other they quickly looked a different direction before walking over to the picture Dean was examining. Sam and Elle each stood at one of Dean's sides. Seemingly, ignoring the tension between his siblings, Dean pointed to the picture where a man stood behind a much larger bear.

"You know what? That almost looks like a picture of the two of you," Dean teased.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Elle squealed. Was her brother really comparing her actions to that of a killer bear?

"You know because Elle's so short and Sammy's so tall."

"Thanks for clarifying," Elle groaned.

"Hilarious man. Real hilarious," Sam said sarcastically.

"You two need to quit acting like sour-pusses, otherwise we're never going to solve the damn case," Dean said.

"Dean, you do realize that there are a dozen or more of those grizzlies in the area. The place is no nature hike," Sam said.

"I'm sure I can always offer you both as a peace offering to the ferocious beast," Dean said with a shrug. "Then the bears can deal with you both."

"You three aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by chance?"

Sam, Elle, and Dean all turned around to see a man in his forest ranger attire standing behind them. His name tag read Wilkinson and he didn't appear to have the friendliest of expressions on his face. None of the Winchesters answered his question, so he repeated himself. The three Winchesters looked between each other before Sam was the one to bite the bullet.

"Oh, no, sir, we're environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper," Sam said.

"A freaking insanely long paper," Elle added. "How our professor expects the three of us to work together is beyond me."

"Recycle, man!" Dean grinned raising a fist.

"See, what I mean?" Elle asked the ranger. "He's just a pretty face. No brains."

"Bull," the ranger said in a rather scathing tone.

"See, even he can tell that I'm more than just a pretty face. I'm the total package," Dean added leaning toward Elle as he reached for where his boobs should be, if he was a girl, with his hands. "They're real by the way."

"That's not what I meant," the ranger said stiffly. "You three are friends with that Haley girl, aren't you?"

"Yes. Yes we are, Ranger—" Dean said removing his hands from his 'breasts', as he checked out the nametag." Wilkinson."

"Yeah, you caught us—Haley and I go like way back," Elle added.

"Well I will tell you exactly what we told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing persons, now is it?" Wilkinson stated.

"Haley's quite a pistol, isn't she?" Dean grinned.

"That's putting it mildly," Ranger Wilkinson said shaking his head.

Well—what could help us is if you'd get us a copy of that backcountry permit," Dean commented. "You know—to show her."

The ranger looked to Dean with his eyebrows raised before he shook his head. Dean raised his eyebrows back at the man, fumbling to come up with a response to his rejection. Elle rolled her eyes and took a step closer to the ranger, tucking her hair behind her ear and looking up at the man innocently.

"Do you have a sister, Ranger Wilkinson?" Elle asked.

"Yeah—got two of 'em."

"See the thing about sisters is that we worry about our brothers. We know they're supposed to be the strong ones and whatnot, but sometimes we just get a feeling in our gut that something's wrong. Haley has that feeling, she just needs something to tell her the contrary of what her gut is telling her," Elle rambled.

"Like I said before, miss. The permit says the twenty-fourth; so you tell that poor girl to quit her worrying. I'm sure her brother's just fine."

"I'm sure you're right sir—but Haley's the kind of girl that needs some sort of proof—something solid to go off of—maybe if we could show her a copy of that backcountry permit. This way she could see with her own eyes her brother's return date—maybe it will help a little keep her from pestering you for at least a few days."

Ranger Wilkinson looked at Elle, who was using her sad-looking blue eyes to her advantage, before he looked to Sam and Dean. He looked like he was about to say, no when he looked back to Elle—then something changed. Her look must have gotten to him because he muttered something about just like his little sister before he moved to find the binder with the backcountry permits. Dean refused to meet Elle's gaze while she looked at him rather smugly. Wilkinson handed over the copy over to Elle before she flashed him a grin and thanked him. The three Winchesters then headed for the Impala. Once outside, Elle held the copy of the permit behind her head and Dean snatched it from her hands.

"You're welcome," Elle said.

"I was doing just fine without you," Dean responded.

"Yeah, your boobs really get you places," Elle retorted sarcastically.

"Don't judge my boobs," Dean commented.

"Guys, as much as I hate to interrupt this conversation—what the hell are we supposed to do with that? It doesn't tell us crap," Sam interrupted.

"It tells us, Tommy here's, address," Dean answered.

"By Tommy, he means Haley," Elle quipped.

"No, you don't say. It's like you know me or something."

"What are you cruising for a hookup or something?" Sam questioned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean questioned.

"The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for? Let's go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?"

"I don't know—maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?"

"What? Who are you and what have you done with my brother?"

"Maybe you're rubbing off on me."

"Sam's right you liar, you just want to see if Haley's hot," Elle interrupted. "Because then maybe you can score some sympathy sex."

"I'm offended you would think that highly of me," Dean shot back. "Besides, Sammy—since when are you all shoot first ask questions later anyway?"

"Since now," Sam responded.

"Really?" Dean grunted. "If this has to do with you two—"

Both Sam and Elle hopped into the Impala and slammed their doors shut before Dean could finish what he was saying. Dean made a gesture as if he were asking why, up toward the sky. Not that he believed in all that; but still. He just needed things to get back to normal with Sam and Elle—for the Winchester Cold War to cease and desist. One second they were civilly working together against him and the next they were playing tug-of-war with him. Dean exhaled slowly before sliding into the tension in the Impala. The car ride to Haley Collins' house was completely silent—awkwardly silent. The silence was slowly beginning to drive Elle insane—but her stubbornness refused to let her cave into Sam. Hadn't she done what she could and it still wasn't enough for him? She knew that even if it was for Dean's sanity she should just get over it—but she just couldn't. She probably got that from her father. Instead, Elle ran her fingers through her hair in frustration and sighed when Dean stopped the car outside a house she assumed belonged to this Haley Collins person. Elle leaned forward and placed her outstretched hand near Sam.

"ID me," Elle said.

Without looking at her Sam leaned forward and dug one of Elle's ID badges out of the glove compartment. He placed it in her hand before continuing to dig for badges for himself and Dean. Elle examined her badge momentarily and for a brief second she wondered what it would be like if the life she lived wasn't an entire lie. As much as she hated to admit it—she was torn between wanting a normal life and the approval of her father. Sadly, both of which she would probably never get. With a sigh, she put the badge into her jeans pocket before she looked between Sam and Dean, as she leaned forward against the front seat of the Impala. She rested her chin against the seat as Sam handed Dean a badge. Dean motioned for them to exit the car before the walked up the drive to the Collins' residence. Elle squeezed herself between Sam and Dean and stopped them before they went up the stairs by holding her hands out in front of them.

"Let me talk to her. I have experience at losing a brother," Elle stated.

"Is that supposed to be some kind of dig?" Sam scoffed.

"No," Elle groaned. "I'm just saying that I can empathize with her. She's more likely to talk to someone who can relate to her. That's all I meant by it; but if you have to read more into it—I can't stop you."

"Elle c'mon, can any woman resist this face?" Dean asked as he made a circle around his face with his fingers trying to diffuse the tension between his siblings.

"Your charms are useless on me and I'm a woman," Elle retorted.

"We've been over this before—you don't count."

"Guys, there's an easy way to solve who gets to talk to her," Sam sighed.

"Ladies first?" Elle questioned.

"Yeah right—the oldest gets to decide and I choose me," Dean scoffed.

"Try old school rock, paper, scissors," Sam said shaking his head.

Elle couldn't help but smirk to herself before she looked to Sam. He had suggested it on purpose because they both knew that Dean always picked scissors. It was almost too much to hope for that Sam was actually siding with her on this—then again, logically it made sense. It would take less time for Elle to get some facts out of the girl than it would for Dean to try and hook up with the girl. Predictably, Dean chose scissor and Elle picked rock. She crushed Dean's scissors with her fist before smirked up at Dean. Dean swore under his breath as Elle marched up to the house and rang the doorbell. Elle looked to Dean, who appeared quite peeved, as they waited for someone to answer the door. The front door swung open, revealing a dark haired woman behind the screen door.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked.

"You must be Haley Collins. I'm Elle. They're Dean and Sam. We're ah—" Elle began.

"Park rangers," Dean coughed.

"Really? I'm not completely incompetent."

Elle glared at Dean before she rolled her eyes at him and turned back to Haley.

"Ranger Wilkinson sent us over to ask you a few questions about Tommy."

Haley looked to the three of them hesitantly.

"Lemme see some ID," Haley said before she moved closer to the screen door.

The three Winchesters held their fake IDs up against the screen. Haley quickly glanced between the three ID badges, but examined Elle's a little more carefully. The girl glanced several times between Elle and her fake ID.

"You look a little young to be with the Park Service," Haley said to Elle.

"First job, fresh out of college ma'am. It would really mean a lot to me if you could help me out even a little. Between you and me, Wilkinson's a pain in my ass and I would really like to come back to him with something so I can lose having these two tailing my every move. I can hardly do my job with them constantly scrutinizing everything I do."

Haley looked to Sam and Dean before she nodded her head in understanding and invited them inside. Before Haley led them further inside the house, she looked outside and spotted the Impala. She asked Elle if it was hers; but when Elle said that the car belonged to Dean, Haley's impression of Dean seemed to change. Of course, Dean, gloated with a smirk on his face as Haley seemed to check him out. Sam and Elle couldn't help but look to each other with a slight look of disgust on their faces; but when they realized that they were falling back into their old routine of looking to each other when Dean was acting full of himself, they both quickly looked away sheepishly. Dean pushed past Sam and Elle, to be closer to Haley as she led them back to the kitchen where boy, not much younger than Elle, sat at the table with a laptop. Haley introduced the boy as her brother Ben. Ben's eyes flashed from the computer screen to Elle before he grinned her direction. Dean not missing what had just occurred turned his head to Sam and mouthed something which caused Sam to roll his eyes. Elle moved to sit in the chair beside Tommy, but Dean blocked her path and sat down in the chair himself before he pointed to the chair furthest away from Ben.

"Seriously?" Elle scoffed.

"Can't have you gettin' distracted on the job, now can we?" Dean responded before he turned to Ben. "How old are you"

"What does that have to do with finding Tommy?" Ben questioned.

"Just answer the question," Dean muttered.

"We—we just need to establish a base for truth with questioning so we start with questions we already know the answers to," Sam added.

"You guys really don't believe us do you?" Ben asked.

"Like my partner said, we need to—uh—whatever it was that he said," Dean responded.

"Establish a base for truthful answers," Elle sighed.

"Yeah, that— So if you want our help, you better answer our questions. All of our questions."

"Just do as they say, Ben. We need their help," Haley sighed.

"Nineteen. I'm nineteen—but I'm assuming you already know that," Ben responded.

"Nineteen. A little young to be flirting with my ranger, aren't you?"

"Is that an actual question? What kind of park ranger are you?"

"He's joking. This one has quite the sense of humor, doesn't he?" Elle said forcing a chuckle before she punched Dean hard in the arm. She hadn't been expecting him to flinch as much as he did.

"So—uh—if Tommy's not due back for a while according to his permit, how do you know something's wrong?" Sam asked, taking over the interview.

"Finally, a question that actually applies to our situation," Ben groaned which caused Haley to gently smack her younger brother in the back of the head.

"What Ben means to say is that Tommy checks in every day by cell. He emails pictures and these stupid little videos—he's a dork like that. A dork, but responsible-and now we haven't heard anything in over three days now," Haley responded.

"Maybe he can't get cell reception," Sam suggested.

"He's got a satellite phone, too."

"Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?" Dean asked.

"Dean, Haley already said that he was the responsible type," Elle retorted.

"That doesn't matter, Elle," Sam started. "Sometimes a guy's just got to get away from everything for a while."

"Leave everything, including a sister and brother? Well, not being a guy, I suppose I wouldn't understand that."

"No, I guess you wouldn't."

There was an awkward silence that came over the group as Sam and Elle seemed to glare at each other. The comments spoken between them were more dealing with the Winchester family drama—than the Collins. Dean cleared his throat and asked for a glass of water to try and ease the tension in the room. Haley nodded her head and turned the tap on before sticking the glass under the running water. She handed the cup to Dean before she brought a couple plates of food over to the table. Haley sat back down and looked between Sam and Elle, both of whom were nibbling on the food she had brought, attempting to ignore the other.

"There's probably something that you should know to understand Tommy and his situation better. Our parents are gone. It's just my two brothers and me. We're all we have, so we keep pretty close tabs on each other."

"I understand that," Elle said sympathetically placing her hand on Haley's. "Believe me, I do; but as much as I hate to admit it, Sam does make a fair point. Sometimes, they just leave despite family being all they have. Boys do stupid things."

"Let me show you something and you decide for yourself about him. I think you'll see what I'm saying."

Haley made a motion toward Ben to pass the laptop over to her. Reluctantly, Ben pushed the computer in Haley's direction and she pulled up some pictures. Haley tilted the computer so that Elle could see better. Sam and Dean moved to stand behind the girls as Haley flipped through several pictures of Tommy. Haley pointed him out in a group shot with some other guys. Elle had to admit, the guy was cute—well, more than cute, but now really wasn't the most appropriate time to think such things. Besides, the guy could be dead for all they knew. Not to mention that it was better not to form an emotional attachment in their line of work. Too many people died—and it seemed easier to not grow overly attached. Haley clicked to a video that he had sent the last time he communicated. Tommy didn't seem to be showing any signs of distress. In fact, to the normal untrained eye, things seemed practically normal.

"We'll find him," Elle said squeezing Haley's hand. "Brothers always seem to find their way back. Sometimes, they just need a proverbial push to find the right direction."

Elle wasn't sure why she said that last part: whether out of hopefulness or spite. Either way, she couldn't bring herself to look at Sam because to be honest, she wasn't sure how he was processing it. Dean cleared his throat before he folded his arms across his chest.

"We'll be heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing tomorrow," Dean said.

"Then maybe I'll you there," Haley responded. "I know it probably sounds crazy, but I can't just sit around here anymore doing nothing. So, I hired a guy to take me up there and help me find him. I'm going to head out in the morning and I'm gonna find Tommy myself."

"I think I have an idea how you feel."

"He's lucky to have a sister like you," Elle smiled.

"One who's willing to go after go after him no matter how dangerous," Sam said much to Elle's surprise. How exactly was she supposed to take that? Was he complimenting Haley or backhanding her or both?

"That's what family does, isn't it?" Haley responded reaching for Ben's shoulder.

"Yeah—or at least they should," Elle sighed.

"Hey—so um—would you mind forwarding these to me?" Sam asked uncomfortably changing the subject.

"Sure," Haley said with a nod of her head.

Haley emailed Sam the pictures and videos of Tommy. The Winchesters then left the Collins' place before heading out to one of the local bars for dinner and beer. They found an empty table and a pretty blonde waitress came over and couldn't seem to take her eyes off Dean. This annoyed Elle, so she interrupted the eye sex going on with her order. The waitress did not seem happy; but she took all three Winchesters' orders and then left to place it. While they waited for their order, Sam pulled Dad's journal out of his bag and placed it on the table. Elle reached for it and began flipping through it.

"So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic," Sam commented before he took the journal from Elle's hands. "Mostly local campers; but there were two hikers that went missing and were never found."

"Usually when you say they went missing, it's assumed that they weren't found," Elle retorted.

"Really, are you looking for an argument?" Sam groaned as he slammed Dad's journal to the table.

"I'm just saying—God, Sam, it's what I do. If you knew me anymore, you would know that."

"Guys," Dean muttered.

"You're such a god-damn hypocrite Elle," Sam growled. "You say that it's not possible for me to know you, so shouldn't it be the same for you about me?"

"No, because I know you, Sam. I've known you my entire life," Elle argued.

"Exactly my point! I've known you your entire life."

"Guys—c'mon," Dean hissed.

"But where your argument falls short is that you're still the same stubborn, egotistical asshole you always were. I on the other hand had to change and grow-up once you left," Elle said in finality as she stood to her feet. "If I didn't know any better—I'd say you were just like Dad and we both know he doesn't give a shit about me."

"Well, this isn't about you," Sam said also getting to his feet.

"Exactly my point," Elle said struggling to hold back the tears.

With tears threatening to fall down her cheeks, Elle turned her back on her brothers before walking to a different table on the other side of the bar. She needed some space from them—well, more Sam; but Dean wasn't exactly helping matters by not picking a side. She could hear Dean cussing a bit as she walked away. Once at the table, she pulled out her sketchbook and looked at the picture she had done of her mother. If only Mom hadn't died. Maybe then they could have had completely normal lives. She certainly wouldn't be in her current situation if Mom was still alive. With a sigh, Elle flipped to an empty page and began to sketch the face she couldn't get out of her head: Tommy Collins. There was just something about the guy that she couldn't quite peg that she empathized with.

"Hey, that actually kinda looks like Tommy."

Elle flipped her head quickly, cracking her neck in the process, to see Ben Collins standing beside her table. Without asking for her permission, he took a seat across from her. She didn't even need to look the other direction to know that Sam and Dean had noticed him. She could practically feel their gazes upon her—but when she looked their direction, they quickly looked away and at the laptop Sam had pulled out. Elle returned her attention to her sketchbook, switching to a different drawing. Well, one that Ben wouldn't recognize.

"Are you just going to ignore me?" Ben asked.

"That was the plan."

"Are you rangers always this grumpy?"

"When you have to work with those two," Elle said pointing to Sam and Dean. "Yes. Now what are you doing here, Ben?"

"Followed you guys. Wanted to see if you had any leads that you weren't sharing."

"That's not creepy at all."

"You honestly don't strike me as a park ranger."

"It's not like I wanted to be doing the job I am. If things were different, I certainly wouldn't be doing this; but my dad—"

"Not to make things awkward—but you should feel lucky that you even have your dad around."

Elle bit her tongue, holding back the retort she wanted to use because she understood what he was saying. Hell, she had probably even used the same line a couple times when people went on about their mothers. But in all honesty, she didn't have her father. She never really did—and that was something she wanted more than anything. She wanted him to see her the way he saw Dean—hell, even Sam: with some sort of speck of pride. But there was no point in arguing her point with Ben. She didn't know him. She wasn't going to get to know him. When this job was all said and done, she would continue on with her life: never looking back. It sucked not having any real relationships beyond those of her brothers—which currently were strained—making yearn for any sort of relationship. Elle sighed as she glanced toward Ben before she returned her focus to her sketchbook. In the corner of her eye, she saw Dean motioning her toward them. She was about to put her sketchbook in her back when Ben snatched it from her hands. She put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. She knew what he was trying to get at: taking her things so that she would have to come back. If that didn't scream desperate, she didn't know what did. Elle walked toward Dean and stopped at the boys' table. As she approached it, Sam abruptly stood up and walked toward the bar. Elle assumed he wanted to get away from her but was using paying the tab as an excuse. She then turned her attention back to Dean with her arms folded across her chest defensively..

"What do you want?" Elle snapped. "I moved away from you two for a reason."

"What's the kid doing here?" Dean asked lowly.

"Following us. Seems to this we're not sharing our leads with him or so he says."

"Smart kid. Too smart for his own good," Dean said before growing quiet for a moment. He then turned to Elle. "Keep him distracted."

"Excuse me?" Elle questioned.

"You know—keep doing that girlie thing you do and distract him while Sam and I go check up on a lead."

"Wait a minute, why do I have to distract him? You're the one whose always flaunting your—uhm—assets."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures. He's into you, that much is obvious. Just go with it. Besides, if I stayed you and Sam would probably kill each other before learning a damn thing."

"So you're pimping me out now?" Elle hissed.

"Sam and I are not being compensated for your work, so I don't see how it qualifies," Dean said with a smirk.

"I thought you were completely against him even talking to me earlier. Something about him being too young for me."

"You into him or something?"

"Good God, no. He's the annoying little brother I never wanted. I just want to understand what the hell you want from me."

"Then it shouldn't be a problem. Like I said, keep him distracted. We don't need him following us over to this Shaw guy's place and you're the only one he seems to be interested in."

"I hate being the distraction."

Elle begrudgingly made her way back to Ben and her sketchbook. He seemed pretty impressed by her work. Honestly, she didn't think it was much; but it felt good to be complimented nonetheless. Either he was just a nice guy or looking for a hook-up. Given what she knew about guys, from her brothers—she assumed the latter. His hand brushed against hers as he handed her back her sketchbook, causing her eyes to flash up toward him once more.

"I—uh—I think your partners want you," Ben said.

"Excuse me? I would never sleep with either of them or you for that matter. Disgusting," Elle snapped.

"Not what I meant. They're watching us again. And that was freaking harsh."

"Oh my God." Elle's hand immediately flew to her mouth. "Look, Ben, I'm sure you're a great guy; but I don't do that."

"Relationships or hooking up?"

"Both. I have brothers who will kill anyone that even looks at me wrong. Believe me; I've seen bad things happen to decent guys. Especially ones just looking to score. Consider it me looking out for you, an act of kindness."

"You really think that bad of me?"

"If you have another reason, I'm all ears."

"Since we seem to be in the speaking what's on your mind mood—Honestly, Haley's driving me crazy and you kinda remind me of Tommy. That's all."

"I am such an idiot. I thought you were hitting on me and sometimes things just come out of my mouth. Word vomit, basically. If I could think of a non-awkward way to apologize, I would—but-"

"They're still glaring."

"I'll be right back and I will attempt to atone for my awkwardness. I promise."

With her face growing redder and redder, Elle walked toward her partners who were standing by the door. She replayed the conversation she just had in her head. Talk about embarrassing. While Dean's tallies on his scorecard were too many to count these days, hers was zilch, nadda, zero; something she knew Dean worked very hard to keep that way, which seemed hypocritical. It wasn't that she was embarrassed by it, it more just awkward being the twenty-one year old virgin, especially when she got compared to her more—uh-experienced brothers. She fanned at her face as she stopped in front of her brothers. Sam once again seemed to be avoiding looking at her. Whatever. If he was going to act like an immature preschooler, then fine, she could do the same thing and ignore him too. She looked to Dean, continuing to fan her flaming face.

"What the hell do you want now? I'm sort of busy at the moment."

"Just wanted to tell you to meet us at the motel," Dean said.

"You couldn't have said that in a text like a normal person?"

"Well—I—uh—I-just"

"You got nothing. Typical. I'm going back to my distracting while you and Sam hurry the hell up so I can get some sleep."

Elle turned quickly on the heel of her red Converse sneaker before walking back over to Ben. As she sat back down, she watched Sam and Dean walk out the door when Ben turned to the picture she had started of Tommy. He acted as if the last awkward conversation they had hadn't actually played out, for which Elle was thankful for. One bad habit she had learned from her brothers was to always assume the worst as far as guys were concerned. For the most part her brothers were right—but she couldn't help but be slightly cynical of Ben. He had flat out told her that he wasn't looking to get in her pants; but there had to be something more to his Tommy reasoning.

"So, tell me something about Tommy. Something real."

"Tommy's kinda the one that holds our family together. Don't tell Haley that I told you that. She likes to think that she is; but Tommy's the glue of our family since my mom and dad. I don't know how Haley and I are even holding it together as well as we are without him."

"Seems like quite the guy."

"He is."

"It's getting late and you don't need Haley worrying about you too."

"You're probably right."

"And I'll even walk you home."

"Isn't it supposed to be the other way around? The guy walking the girl home?"

"Think of it as me making sure you don't go off and do anything stupid."

"You sound like Tommy."

Elle walked Ben back to his house before disappearing to the motel. Sam and Dean hadn't made it back from Shaw's yet, so she found that she had the room to herself. That meant she had first dibs on the beds, leaving Sam and Dean to rock-paper-scissors-it-out for who got the other full size bed and who got the twin-sized rollaway bed. She knew that Sam was going to beat Dean; but part of her hoped that Sam got stuck with the small bed after how irritating he had been tonight. Well—part of her thought this. Another part of her just wanted everything with Sam to go back to the way things were. The way they were before he left for Stanford. Back to the days when their inside jokes drove Dean crazy, when they took the Impala out for joy rides while Dean was sleeping, when everything wasn't so damn complicated and emotional. Since she was all by herself, she let the tears fall freely. It wasn't often she got a chance to cry. She could practically hear John Winchester's berating words in her head about crying; but she needed this release. As her sobs began to subsided, her ears perked up to hear Sam and Dean talking as they walked down the hallway to the room. Elle quickly slipped under the covers and turned off the bedside lamp only seconds before she heard them trying to get in. She closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep as they walked in and flipped the light on. She made sure to slow her breathing down so that her brothers would buy her sleeping act.

"Looks like she's sleeping," Sam said.

"More looks like she cried herself to sleep," Dean responded.

"What makes you say that?"

"Oh I don't know—maybe the fact that there's a pile of used tissues on the table and her face is all blotchy."

"Girls get emotional over nothing—you know that."

"I told myself I was going to stay out of this; but I can't keep working with you two if you're gonna act like this."

"So you're taking her side?"

"I'm not taking a goddamn side, Sam. I just want this shit over. We're never going to find Dad if you two keep this up."

"I'm the one she verbally attacked, Dean. I'm the one who watched my girlfriend die."

"This is exactly what I'm talking about. You both are so damn concerned about playing the victim. Shit happens. You both know that and have lived it for almost your entire lives. Get over yourselves and grow up. We have a job to do. That goes for you too, Elle. I know you're awake. You made a face when I said it was blotchy."

Dean threw himself onto the bigger bed as Elle opened her eyes. She looked to Sam who looked at her with a hard expression on his face. Neither said a word to each other. Sam growled something low to himself before he unfolded the roll-away bed and spread out on it. He muttered for someone to turn off the light. Elle waited for Dean to make a move toward the switch, but he didn't. It wasn't until Dean's snores began to fill the room that Sam made his request again. Elle slowly sat up and sighed before she reached for the switch, plunging the room into complete darkness. She lay back down and thought about Dean's words. He was right. She knew that. She was pretty sure that Sam knew it too. Her thoughts turned to the Collins family and what Ben had said about Tommy being the glue. She thought of how they relied on each other and loved each other—no matter what. That's what family was supposed to be like, right? While she certainly wasn't ready to surrender to Sam—the question became was she willing to do it for Dean. She sighed once more. Silence hovered over the room. She wanted to bring up something light-hearted to Sam and get the first step over, but she was scared that it would completely fall flat. Instead, she turned her pillow to the cold side before slowly falling into a deep sleep.

The next day, Elle, Sam, and Dean pulled up at the park in the Impala to find Haley, Ben, and their guide just about to head out on the hike. Elle pulled her hair into a ponytail as they stepped out of the car. She wore a holey pair of shorts, a sweatshirt, and her trademark Converse. Sam pulled a duffel bag out of the back as Elle leaned against the car and Dean flirted with Haley. Part of Elle wondered if Haley and Dean were both flirting with each other to get what they wanted—and they knew that was exactly the same thing the other was doing. Either way, Dean's flirtations seemed to be working on Haley—it was the new guy that wasn't buying it.

"Who are these guys?" the man asked gruffly.

"Could ask the same about you," Elle responded with a flip of her ponytail.

"Roy, apparently this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue," Haley said to him. "Guys this is Roy. He's the guy I was talking about yesterday."

"You three are rangers?" Roy scoffed.

"That's right," Dean said with a nod.

"Looks like they'll take just about anybody these days."

"Just about. Although it looks like you didn't quite pass the test."

"Dean," Elle hissed elbowing him as Sam walked away toward the trail.

"We'll see just who's laughing in the end. I'll tell you now it's gonna be me. You're never gonna make it in what you're wearing."

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"You're hiking in biker boots and jeans?" Haley asked.

"Well, sweetheart, I don't do shorts," Dean quipped.

"He gets embarrassed by his cankles," Elle smirked. She swore she could have heard a laugh from Sam; but when she looked his direction he purposely turned his back to her.

"I don't have cankles," Dean hissed at Elle before turning toward Haley. "I don't."

"You guys think this is funny? It's dangerous country back there and you're arguing about whatever the hell you're talking about—Her brother might be hurt. Get your heads on straight," Roy argued.

"Believe me, I know how dangerous it can be out there. We just wanna help them find their brother that's all. Same as you."

Dean walked past Roy, purposely brushing the man's shoulder with his own. He walked toward Sam who was waiting at the start of the trail. Elle looked to Ben and Haley before she shrugged her shoulders and followed after her brothers. Family. It was always complicated. She found Sam and Dean waiting for her—and the rest of them. Elle was about to ask which one of her brothers wanted to lead the way when Roy pushed past and assumed his rightful place at the beginning of the group. He was followed closely behind by Dean and Haley, then Ben, Elle, and Sam brought up the rear. Dean and Roy seemed to be the only ones talking. Probably because Ben and Haley were too deep in thought about Tommy and well—Sam and Elle had nothing to say to each other—well, at least nothing nice. Roy and Dean were talking about hunting. Elle turned around and gave Sam a knowing look to which he responded with a nod of his head. Suddenly, Elle slammed into Ben who had stopped. The whole group was stopped because Roy took hold of Dean by his collar. Dean wasn't happy with the situation and he tried to fight away from Roy; but the old guy took a stick and poked it right where Dean had been about to step. The stick snapped in a bear trap. Elle's hands flew over her face as her eyes widened. Sam pushed her back with his hand, urging her to continue.

"He's fine," Sam muttered. "Foot still attached. Keep going."

She looked to Sam curiously. How had he known that her mind had immediately gone to the "what-if?" But his face had no emotion to be read on it. Next thing they knew, Haley had a hold of Dean's arm and him pushed up against a tree. Ben just continued to walk on past. Sam and Elle looked to each other before looking to Dean. With his head, Dean indicated for them to keep walking. The younger Winchesters looked to each other once more. Sam moved to keep going. He reached for Elle's arm, but she quickly withdrew her arm from his grasp with an icy glare.

"Elle-Belle, go on," Dean said.

"You call all your rangers like that?" Haley snapped.

"Nah—Elle's my little sister and she was just leaving with our brother Sam."

Dean glared at her until Elle rolled her eyes and walked away. She muttered under her breath as she saw Sam waiting for her. She tried her best to ignore him and keep on walking; but being short and with his long stride he easily caught up to her. But thankfully, he didn't say word. Although, she could tell that there was something on his mind that he wanted to say to her. They continued walking for what seemed like forever. Elle managed to pull some trail mix out of her bag and snack on it as they were walking—well, until Dean stole it from her. She chased him for a few feet until she tripped over a root and fell to the ground. She swore under her breath as she slowly stood wiping away the dirt and blood away from her knees. Elle sarcastically thanked Dean and he responded by throwing her an M&M. Boys. She wasn't sure how much farther they walked, but Roy came to a stop when they reached Blackwater Ridge. It really wasn't Elle had pictured in her head—much more beautiful actually; but given that there was suspicious activity going on around here, it couldn't be all that beautiful. Sam asked for the coordinates and Roy listed them from his GPS.

"Thirty-five and minus one-eleven."

"Isn't that—" Elle started.

"Sh! You hear that?" Dean asked.

The three Winchesters stood side by side and listened for a moment. There wasn't a single sound to be heard which was very odd for being in the middle of a forest. One would think that you would hear some sort of wildlife: a deer running, a rabbit hopping, birds chirping; but there was nothing. They looked to each other knowingly. There was definitely something off about this place. Roy mentioned that he was going to take a look around their current location. That definitely wasn't a good idea and the Winchesters knew it. Sam was the first one to try and stop him, but Roy waved his gun around and pushed between them. Ben and Haley caught up with them and Dean stated that they should all stick together. But that didn't last long when Roy found Tommy and his friends' campsite. The place was a mess. Tents were torn open and bloody. All the supplies were scattered across the ground. Roy commented that the place looked like it had seen a grizzly. Haley then began to scream Tommy's name and Elle's stomach dropped at the pain and heartbreak evident in the girl's voice.

Haley set down her backpack and began to run through the camp. Sam quickly took after her. He grabbed her firmly around her waist as she continued to scream her brother's name. Sam told her to be quiet, but she continued to shout for Tommy. Eventually he moved his hand to cover her mouth. He told her that he would remove his hand if she didn't scream to which she responded with a nod of her head. Slowly, Sam removed his hand and Haley demanded to know why she needed to be quiet. Sam explained that there might still be something out there—which was an understatement. There was something out there. Dean motioned for Sam and Elle to come a little closer. Both the siblings walked to their brother who was crouching near the ground. Dean pointed toward the campsite.

"The bodies were dragged from the campsite to right about—here—" Dean started.

"And then the tracks suddenly vanish," Elle commented. "Poof."

"Which is weird if you ask me."

"Like I said last night it's got to be something corporeal," Sam said. "Maybe—"

"Well I'll tell you what it ain't—it ain't no skinwalker or black dog."

"So then what the hell is it?" Elle asked.

"Whatever it is—it can't be good," Sam groaned.

"No shit, Sherlock," Elle said before she cringed. "I didn't mean that to come out as harsh as it did. I was just—"

"Whatever, Elle," Sam said shaking his head before standing up. "Looks like Haley found something."

Dean was the first one to rush over to Haley's side. Sam and Elle slowly made their way over where Dean was crouched beside Haley. She was clutching a bloody cell phone. Elle looked to Ben—who face was pale. She deduced that the phone must have belonged to Tommy. She watched as Dean tried to comfort Haley. It actually looked sincere, which was an odd sight to see on her brother. Beyond her and Sam, Elle had never seen Dean act so compassionately. Not that she didn't think her brother was capable of it—but she knew that he knew not to get too attached in their line of work. Out of nowhere a voice began to cry for help. The group scrambled behind Roy as they ran to aid the shouter. The voice called again for help; but they couldn't find anyone in dire need of help—hell, they couldn't find anyone beyond their own party. Sam urged the group to head back to the campsite. Elle's mind seemed to spin as she tried to put the clues together. What the hell could leave tracks but suddenly vanish, move insanely fast, mimic a human voice….They arrived back at the campsite to find all the supplies except for the duffel Dean had slung over his shoulder missing.

"Shit."

"That's right," Ben responded.

"No. No. This is not good."

"What are we supposed to eat?"

"That's the least of our worries at the moment."

Elle ran over to Dean and ripped the duffel bag from him. Dean seemed somewhat surprised, but he seemed to understand when he saw Elle pull Dad's journal out of the bag. Elle flipped through the pages and groaned when she saw it all standing right before her on the pages. The First Nations style drawing—mimicking a human voice. She swore aloud as she ran her fingers through the back of her ponytail. She definitely needed to consult her brothers on this one—but she was fairly certain what they had stumbled upon.

"Dean, Sam, I need to speak with you both—in private."

Sam, Dean, and Elle walked a little ways away from the group so that they could have a little more privacy. Elle was about to explain when Sam snatched Dad's journal from her hands. Sam flipped through the journal and Elle noticed when he stopped on the same page she did.

"Looks like we're thinking the same thing," Elle whispered.

"You came to this conclusion as well?" Sam asked looking up to his sister.

"It makes sense."

"I agree."

"Care to share with the class what the hell you two think we're up against?" Dean asked.

"Wendigo," Sam and Elle said simultaneously.

Sam held the book out for Dean to see it better and Elle pointed to the drawing of the figure and underlined a few key phrases. Dean seemed to scoff at the thought. But for the first time during the mess of emotions between Sam and Elle; they were one the same page, so to speak. The way they explained things to Dean made things seem just like old times—which sort of scared all three of them.

"Come on guys, wendigos are in the Minnesota woods, or northern Michigan. I've never heard of one this far west before."

"Since when has the crap we hunt actually followed their own god-damn rules?" Elle pointed out.

"She's right, Dean," Sam said. "Think about it—the claws—"

"The way it can mimic a human voice."

"It fits."

"Great. That's just freaking fantastic," Dean groaned as he took out his pistol. "Well this is useless."

"As is most of what we packed," Elle sighed. "But I'm sure we'll figure something out."

"It's not us I'm worried about," Sam said. "We gotta get these people to safety."

"You can try, but I can guarantee that Haley and Ben aren't going anywhere without Tommy."

"They can't stay here, Elle. They could get killed."

"You misunderstood me. I agree that they should get the hell out of Dodge; but don't expect them to go willingly."

"Point taken, but we gotta try."

"Is it just me or does this feel just like old times?" Dean smirked.

"It's just you," Sam commented.

"Definitely just you," Elle said rolling her eyes.

"C'mon guys. Don't do this just because I pointed something out," Dean groaned.

"It's called a habit Dean and habits aren't always good. Take smoking for example. It can kill you."

"Well aren't you just little Miss Sunshine?"

"You two keep doing whatever the hell it is you're doing. I'm going to try and save some people," Sam said.

Elle and Dean watched as Sam marched over to where Haley, Ben, and Roy were standing. Just as she predicted, they didn't appear to be moving anywhere fast; but it was Roy where the biggest fight was coming from. He probably didn't want to be told by a group of youngins what was going on. Elle looked to Dean and he nodded his head toward Sam, like he expected her to help him. Then again, she usually was the one to help out in these types of situations. It was in her personality to avoid conflict for the most part—to find a compromise—to make people see things from both perspectives. Unless it came to herself, then she was stubborn as hell. With a sigh, Elle walked to Sam's side as he seemed to be acting very defensive.

"Yeah? It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's a smarter than you, and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we your sorry, stupid ass out of here."

"You know you're crazy, right?" Roy laughed.

"Really? You ever hunted a wen—"

Elle pushed into Sam before he attempted to get in Roy's face. Sam gave her a disgruntled look as she placed a hand out before him, to try and hold him back; but before he could say anything, Elle began to speak to Haley and Ben, hoping to get somewhere with them.

"Sam's not crazy, he's right," Elle said. "This—thing—is a perfect hunter and we're its target. Ben, Haley, what would Tommy tell you to do?"

"Tommy might still be alive. We can't just stop," Ben argued.

"That's not what I asked you."

"He would tell us to stay safe—"

"Exactly."

"But if one of us were in this situation, he'd come after us. Why should we do any differently?"

"Which is why I'm not leaving here without him. Tommy might still be alive, so everybody stop this bickering because it's not going to change my mind any," Haley said in finality.

Elle looked to Sam and Dean before she shrugged her shoulders at them. She couldn't exactly find fault with their logic. If either of her brothers were in the situation—she would go after them—even despite how pissed she still was at Sam. Roy made a comment that even if they wanted to—they'd never make it out of the park before the sun went down. That left only one choice: they were spending the night. Elle felt a shiver go down her spine at the thought. Not only was a freaking wendigo a great hunter during the day; but it was also unbelievably skilled during the night as well. They were really going to have to stay together if they intended on surviving the night. She was fully intending on spending her time as close to her brothers as possible. Yes, even hunters can be a little frightened; they just usually never told a single soul about their moments of weakness.

After they had built the campfire, Dean began to draw Anasazi symbols in the dirt around their site. Sam sat against a tree away from the fire, but within the protection of Dean's symbols. Elle looked between Ben who was talking with Roy or Sam. She decided to take her chances sitting with Sam. After all, if the wendigo came calling she trusted Sam to protect her more than two people who had no idea what the hell a wendigo was. The leaves crunched beneath Elle as she sat beside Sam. He seemed to scoot away from her without even looking at her.

"What do you want?" Sam asked, no taking his eyes off Dad's journal.

"Thought you could use the company," Elle said with a shrug.

"You know that lying to my face just makes me even more pissed off at you."

"Fine, that's my minor reason. I just figured that I'd be safer around the wendigo with you by my side than those two."

"Unless I let it take you."

"This is true, but then not only would you feel slightly guilty afterwards, but you'd have to put off with an extremely pissed off Dean which I'm pretty sure is worse than a creepy wendigo."

"I'd manage."

"And you do realize that even hypothetically saying you'd let me die makes me even more pissed off at you."

"I can't leave you two alone for a second can I?" Dean groaned as he walked toward them. "Either of you want to tell me what else is going on now?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Elle retorted as she stood up.

"You're not going anywhere until we get this settled," Dean said grabbing hold of Elle's arm.

"I'm not a child."

"Well you certainly fooled me. I'm supposed to be the belligerent one—not you two, remember? Now I'm no Dr. Phil, but I don't think it's each other that you're really mad at. I mean—at least not to the extent that you two are taking it out on each other."

Elle refused to meet Dean's glance. She was surprised when it was Sam who actually responded.

"You're wrong. I'm pissed at Elle; but what do you want me to say, that I'm pissed at Dad? Well, it's no big surprise Dean. It's been that way for years, man. He's not here. What kind of person just sends his kids out like this? Why then hell are we still even here?"

"Actually, I'd like the answer to that one as well. You've never been the attachment kind of person. That's usually mine and Sam's job," Elle added.

Dean bent down and snatched John Winchester's journal from Sam's hands. He held it up in front Sam and Elle before he began speaking in harsh tones.

"This is why. This is Dad's single most valuable possession—everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things—"

"The family business?" Elle scoffed.

"The family business."

"You really have gone soft."

"It's not soft. It's our job. It's what we're supposed to do, I just know it. I can feel it."

"I don't have the same feelings."

"It makes sense."

"It makes no sense," Sam said shaking his head. "Why wouldn't dad just—call us? Why doesn't he tell us what he wants, tell us where he is?"

"Probably because it's Dad," Elle said rolling her eyes. "When does the inconsiderate ass ever give a damn."

"I don't care what you two think, but the way I see it, Dad's giving us a job to do, and I intend to do it," Dean said with finality.

"Dean—I'm not going off on this crusade of yours. I just gotta find Dad. I gotta find Jess's killer. It's the only thing I can think about right now," Sam hissed.

"Why? So you can leave again?" Elle muttered.

"Honestly, I haven't thought much beyond finding Jess's killer, Elle. I'm not going to apologize for wanting to see her death avenged. I thought you of all people—with your empathy crap—might understand that."

"I do! I get it! But I don't want to see you let this consume you. I just got you back and I-god-damnit-I just want to have my brother back for a while."

"And right now I don't know whether to believe you're being sincere or saying it because you think it's what I want to hear."

"There you go twisting what I said into something negative and completely off the point. You asshole."

"Whoa—easy now. Sam, we'll find what you're looking for, I promise; but you gotta listen to me. You need to prepare yourself. Elle's right about all this anger and it ain't gonna do nobody any good because I'm gonna be straight with you—this search your take a while. You can't let that anger keep burning over the long haul—it's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man. And Elle—Sam's probably going to be with us a while, so stop acting like you're about to lose him at any second. Because you're not," Dean stated.

"How do you do it, man?" Sam questioned.

Dean pointed over to Haley and Ben who were playing tic tac toe in the dirt. He told his younger siblings that since their family was so screwed up, helping others keep a so-called normal family made things a little more bearable. Elle could understand that—but it didn't make her yearning for a normal family any less. But it was something she was never going to have. She was never going to do the things normal people did—be in relationships, get married, have kids—she couldn't pull someone else into this life. Not if she could help it. That only left her with what little family she had left.

"I'll you what helps with it all though—killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can," Dean said with a grin.

Suddenly, the sound of twigs snapping begins to fill the void in the air. A voice, presumably the wendigo begins to call for help again. Dean stood up and readied his gun. Elle shot Dean a look of confusion before he slowly lowered his gun. His weapon was useless against the wendigo. Sam then pointed his flashlight around the area.

"He's trying to draw us out. Let's just stay cool, stay put," Dean said calmly.

"Inside your magic circle?" Roy scoffed.

"I'd say it's a hell of a lot safer than whatever's outside of it," Elle retorted.

"Ya'll are crazy."

The wendigo began to growl.

"Wanna try that one again?" Elle said snidely.

"Okay—that's no grizzly."

"You catch on fast," Sam said sarcastically.

The wendigo rushed past them again, causing Haley to shriek. The girl clung to her brother Ben. Elle wasn't sure whether it was for comfort or to keep him safe. Unconsciously, Elle moved closer toward Dean when Roy began to start shooting off into the dark woods. Idiot. He wasn't actually going to kill the thing—just piss it off even more. Roy shot his gun again, but this time there was no sound of the bullet ricocheting. The older man assumed that he actually hit the thing and took off to find what he shot. Sam, Dean, and Elle shouted for him not to leave the protected area, but the old man didn't listen. He practically took off in a sprint but Dean made sure to stop Haley and Ben from going after him. He told Elle to stay with them, while he and Sam ran after Roy to try and save the old man's ass. Elle tried to put herself between the barrier and Ben and Haley as Roy shouted that he found it. Sam and Dean were just about to where Roy was standing when there was the sudden sound of twigs snapping before something that wasn't a twig snapped. Elle hoped that it wasn't Roy—but she had a feeling that it was. Her suspicions were confirmed when Sam and Dean came back inside the protection with a somewhat somber expression on their faces.

"Where's Roy?" Ben asked.

"Gone," was all Dean managed.

"What do you mean he's gone?"

"I don't know how much more plainly I can spell it out for you kid. The thing got him. He's gone."

Elle sighed as Ben came up to her with a questioning look. He didn't say anything, just looked at her as if he had been betrayed. She felt quite uncomfortable with the situation and tried to relieve any tension.

"I'm sorry about Roy," Elle said.

"Haley told me you guys aren't rangers," Ben said.

"We're looking for someone too," Elle explained. "My dad."

"So how is it that you guys know about this stuff?" Ben asked.

"This has been my whole life," Elle responded. "And my dad."

"So what, you go around lying to people for a living?"

"Ben, it's not like that. Okay—well—it sort of is—"

Ben walked away from her toward his sister.

"Ben, c'mon."

Ben seemed to ignore her for the rest of the night. Elle, Sam, and Dean took shifts staying awake while everyone else managed to get a bit of sleep. If they were going to get this thing, they needed to do it when the wendigo didn't have a nighttime advantage. Elle took first watch and Dean relieved her. She slept straight through until morning. She was awoken by the sounds of talking coming from Dean and Haley. With atrocious bedhead, Elle walked over to the conversation when Sam announced that they had to kill the son of a bitch. Dean was of course up for it. Ben and Haley looked to each other hesitantly.

"Maybe we should give them a bit more information before they sign their lives away," Elle said.

Sam agreed and showed them the pages on wendigos in Dad's journal.

"Wendigo is a Cree word. It means evil that devours," Sam said.

"They're hundreds of years old. Each one was once a man—" Dean started.

"Or woman," Elle added.

"Rarely. Usually an Indian, or old times frontiersman or a miner or a hunter."

"You're telling me that thing was once a human being?" Haley questioned. "How does a man turn into one of those things?"

"It's not pretty," Sam said.

"Always the same thought. During some harsh winter, a guy finds himself starving and cut off from supplies or help. A man gets desperate. Desperate enough to do anything to survive," Dean continued.

"By that he means they become a cannibal to survive. They eat other members of his tribe or camp," Elle added.

"That's disgusting," Haley gagged.

"Like the Donner Party?" Ben asked before Dean gave a slightly confused look.

"Yes—for those of us who actually paid attention in history class," Elle retorted.

"Anyway—cultures all over the world belive that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities: speed, strength, immortality—" Sam started.

"If you eat enough of it—over the years—you become a thing that is less than human. Something that's always hungry for human flesh."

"So if all that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?" Haley questioned.

"You're not gonna like it," Dean said.

"Tell me."

"More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when its awake it keeps its victim alive. It, uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If our brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there."

"And how exactly to we go about stopping it?"

"Guns are useless," Sam said.

"So are knives," Elle added.

"Which leaves us with what?" Haley asked.

"We gotta torch the sucker," Dean said as he held up a can of lighter fluid, a beer bottle, and a white cloth.

Sam and Dean took turns leading them through the woods. They followed trees with claw marks and blood—but it almost seemed easy. Too easy. These things were supposed to be smart. Was it really leading them right to its lair? Maybe it planned on ambushing them once they were trapped in the dark. Sam must have thought the same thing, because he stopped and waited for Elle and Dean to catch up.

"What's up?" Dean asked.

Sam pointed out what Elle had already observed. She wasn't the only one with a gut feeling about the situation. The trees began to rustle after some growling. Elle took a step closer to her brothers. She tried to put on a brave face with all this shit—but honestly it scared the hell out of her. But she needed a brave face more than ever, especially with Haley and Ben around. Blood began to drip onto Haley's shirt, she looked up and moved out of the way quickly as Roy's corpse came free-falling onto the ground. The growling continued.

"Damnit, it's a trap," Elle hissed.

"Okay, run, run, run, go, go, go!" Dean shouted.

Dean and Haley took up the lead as they began to sprint through the woods. Ben tripped over something and grabbed Elle to break his fall. The youngest Winchester and the youngest Collins scrambled to get off the ground. Sam stopped for a moment and looked both directions before he raced back to help Elle back to her feet and then Ben. The group had been divided into two. Haley's screams filled the air; but there was no one in front of them. The wendigo had taken Haley and Dean, leaving only the Molotov cocktail Dean had made; but its bottle was broken rendering it useless. Sam and Elle began to shout Dean's name and Ben shouted for Haley; but it was no use. Elle's face paled. She looked about to pass out. She tightly closed her eyes and leaned against a tree. She couldn't break down. Not here. Not now. She felt two familiar arms wrap around her. She leaned into her brother's embrace, forgetting whatever crap was going on between them. Her body began to shake, but she refused to release a sob or a single tear.

"We'll find him."

"I can't lose him. We can't lose him."

"Dean's not going down without a fight, you know that."

"But what if—"

"Now's not the time for those. Right now we need to go drag his sorry ass back to the light of day so I can kick it for being so damn reckless."

"I'm sorry—I'm sorry for everything."

"Guys, I hate to interrupt your moment, but I think I found something," Ben said.

Sam patted Elle on the back before he released her and walked toward Ben. Ben examined a peanut M&M in his hand before pointing through the trees. Ben walked a few more steps before picking up another one.

"They went this way," Ben said continuing to follow the M&M trail.

"It's better than breadcrumbs," Sam laughed. "But I thought he ate all the M&M's in his bag last night."

"You know, if it wasn't helping save his life, I'd probably be pissed that he picked all the M&M's out of my trail mix," Elle said holding up her trail mix that was M&M free before she wiped at her misty eyes.

"Dean," Sam chuckled.

Sam smiled up at his sister. Elle put the trail mix back into her bag before she followed Sam and Ben along the trail. She wasn't sure how long they walked, but they stopped at an entrance to a mine. There was a sign that read: Warning! Danger! Do Not Enter Extremely Toxic Material. Sam looked to Ben and Elle before he shrugged. He walked inside, followed by Elle and then Ben. They completely ignored the sign that said KEEP OUT. Sam pulled out his flashlight as Elle grabbed one from her pack. They walked a few feet when growling began to echo through the mine. Sam and Elle looked to each other before they quickly shut off their flashlights. Sam slid past Elle and pinned Ben against the wall as the wendigo came right for them. Sam's hand covered Ben's mouth so that his scream wouldn't escape his lips. Elle clutched Sam's other arm and buried her face against her brother. Thankfully the wendigo went down a different tunnel at the crossing. Elle breathed a sigh of relief before Sam looked down at her.

"I forgot how tight of a grip you have," Sam said.

"Right. Oops!" Elle said removing her grasp of her brother's arm.

Elle, Sam, and Ben continued walking further into the mine. The floorboards creaked underneath their weight until they finally gave in, causing Ben, Elle, and Sam to fall through the floor. Elle's high-pitched scream reverberated through the mine. Hopefully the wendigo didn't hear her. She groaned as she landed in a pile of bones. Disgusting. All the thing's years' worth of hunting was down here. Ben instantly shot up and looked about ready to vomit at the sight of all the skulls and bones on the ground. Sam assured him that it was going to be okay. Elle rubbed the back of her neck, but she froze at the sight above her.

"Guys, look," Elle said pointing up.

The boys looked up to see what Elle had seen: Dean and Haley hanging by their wrists from the ceiling. Sam quickly helped Elle to her feet before the Winchesters ran to Dean while Ben ran to Haley. Sam gently smacked Dean's face while Elle shook him by his arms. Dean's eyes flashed open before he winced in pain. Both Sam and Elle asked him if he was okay.

"Haley," Dean muttered.

"She's right here," Sam answered pointing toward Ben who was still trying to wake Haley up.

"Tommy," Haley gasped when she was finally awake. "Where's Tommy?"

"Let me get you down first, Haley," Ben said.

"We need to find him," Haley said struggling to free herself.

"I—I'll go find him," Elle said.

Elle quickly scanned the room and found the young man who looked like the one in her drawing. She had only seen pictures and videos of him, they hardly did him justice. If one got beyond the beaten and scratched face, Tommy was very attractive. Elle gently pressed her hand against Tommy's cheek causing his head to jerk up.

"Hey—it's okay—you're safe. My name's Elle. I'm with your brother and sister. We're here to save you. We'll get you out—I promise."

Tommy's eyes stopped looking frantically around for a moment and focused on her. He seemed rather calm despite being tied up. His gaze was rather intense that it caused Elle to blush. Elle called for Sam to come over and cut him down. She reached for his face one last time and as her fingertips barely brushed against him, she felt herself being pushed aside by Haley as Sam cut him down. As Haley whispered words of comfort to her brother, Dean pulled Elle aside toward a corner where the stolen supplies were piled.

"We need something to light this bitch up," Dean muttered.

Elle began to dig through the supplies. She came across a box of matches, it was a weak option; but then her hand stumbled across a gun—a flare gun. She tossed it toward Dean who grinned before he got Sam's attention.

"Check it out. Look what Elle-Belle found," Dean said.

"Flare guns? Nice. Those'll work," Sam responded.

"Now let's get the hell out of Dodge," Elle said.

Tommy was leaning heavily against his siblings, but he managed a smile at Elle's response. Sam, and Dean were packing heat—well, flare guns actually. They led the way down the tunnel as Haley and Ben who were supporting Tommy followed behind them. Growling once again echoed through the air. Elle swore under her breath.

"Looks like someone's home for supper," Dean commented.

"A little early," Elle muttered.

"Hey, it's five o'clock somewhere."

Elle shook her head at her brother.

"Now what? We're never going to outrun that thing," Haley added.

Dean looked around to Elle and Sam. He then began to look around the tunnel, examining it. Elle knew what he was doing. He was looking for an escape route so that he could distract the wendigo.

"You two thinking what I'm thinking?" Dean asked.

"Yeah—I think so," Sam said.

"Don't do anything stupid. You owe me some freaking M&M's," Elle said to Dean.

"Love you too, little sister," Dean chuckled. "Now you guys stay with Sam and Elle. They're gonna get you out of here."

"What's are you gonna do?" Haley asked.

Dean didn't say a word about what his plan was, instead he winked at Haley before he walked away from them. Crazy ran in the family, that was for sure. Dean then began yelling at the wendigo, telling him that it was chow time. Elle couldn't help but shake her head at her brother's distractions. He was confident; but sometimes Elle wondered if he was too confident and that it would eventually catch-up with him. But today, was not the time for such thoughts. Dean was going to be okay. He had to be. Or at least that's what she told herself in order help Sam lead the Collins siblings safely out of the abandoned mine. They tried to get out quickly when the growling grew closer to them rather than farther away toward Dean. Damnit. These things were smart and it probably knew that they were trying to outwit it. The group froze for a moment behind Sam who was pointing the flare gun at the freaky bastard. Sam looked back at Elle and the Collins siblings and then back to his sister.

"Elle, get them out of here," Sam said.

"No, not without you," Elle argued.

"Just go! Make sure they're safe."

Elle's eyes met Tommy's once more. He looked so helpless. She had promised him that she was going to save him. She had to keep her word. She had promised him that much. Reluctantly, Elle led Haley, Ben, and Tommy down the path as Sam acted as a barrier between them and the wendigo. He shot his flare gun at the wendigo who was practically in his face; but he missed. Sam then took off in a sprint after Elle and the Collins siblings. Elle continued to lead them until she lead them to a dead-end. She screamed in frustration. Now what were they supposed to do? They couldn't go anywhere and the wendigo was right behind them. Sam yelled for all of them to get behind him. Elle found herself squished between the wall and Tommy, his breathing rather uneven. She wanted to reach up and comfort him; but that would probably be a little awkward—afterall, she didn't even know the guy. The wendigo slowed down it's pace, taking its time and probably savoring the hunt. Next thing she knew, Dean shouted at the thing, distracting it before he shot the flare gun and the thing went up in flames. The small group breathed a sigh of relief.

"Not bad, huh?" Dean said with a grin.

"Next time, don't make it such a close call," Elle muttered.

The group slowly made their way back to the Ranger's station. An ambulance was called for Tommy. Elle sat with him as Ben and Haley had to go over their story first with the rangers. She had her sketchbook out and was flipping through the pages. He looked about ready to fall asleep, but Elle gently tapped his cheeks. His eyes focused directly on her.

"You need to stay awake. You could have a concussion or something," Elle said.

"After all that and you're worried about a concussion?" Tommy asked.

"Fine, if you want to fall asleep and never wake up, leaving your brother and sister alone for good this time; be my guest, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Tommy smiled at her, making Elle feel slightly uncomfortable.

"What?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For finding me. For helping Haley and Ben. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."

"You're giving me a little too much credit, buddy."

"No. I'm never going to forget what you did."

"I—I think I hear the ambulance." Elle said as she stood to her feet.

Escaping the awkwardness, Elle walked outside to the Impala. She sat on the hood by herself until Sam joined her. Sam folded his hands and looked up to the sky.

"Now what?" Elle asked.

"We find Dad," Sam responded.

"Not that. What about us?"

"I don't know. What do you want to happen?"

"I could ask you the same thing?"

"I think if this is going to work—we need to be honest with each other. No more bottling it all up."

"You're ripe."

"What?"

"You said we should be honest with each other and you smell—disgusting."

Sam chuckled before he wrapped his arm around his sister. She was engulfed by his sweaty smell that made her want to gag; but even she couldn't help but laugh. Dean approached them with a grin on his face.

"Maybe I should go missing more often," Dean suggested.

"No!" Sam and Elle shouted simultaneously.

"So are you two back to normal now?" Dean asked.

"Dean, we can't go back to normal. Normal doesn't exist anymore," Elle stated.

"It's gonna be a long road to get wherever the hell we're going," Sam added. "It's not as simple as when we were kids. But I'm willing to give it another try."

"Me too."

Dean nodded his head before he took a seat on the Impala's hood in between his siblings.

"I hate camping," Dean said.

"Me too," Sam laughed.

"Then let's get the hell out of here," Elle suggested.

"You guys know we're gonna find Dad, right?"

"Yeah, I know. But in the meantime—I'm driving," Sam said.

Dean smirked before he tossed the keys to Sam. Elle tried to intercept them; but there was no possible way she could have reached them.

"What? No fair. Baby likes me better," Elle moaned.

"You don't even like Baby—or driving," Dean commented. "Oh—shotgun!"

"Not if I beat you to it."

"I don't think so."

"You guys better hurry or I'm leaving without you," Sam said.

Sam was leaning on the driver's side of the car as Elle and Dean scrambled to get to the front seat. Dean playfully shoved Elle, causing her to biff it on the gravel. He beat Elle to the door and did a little victory dance as Elle tried to kick him in the ass. She then was relegated to the backseat once more; but things actually looked like they might be okay. Okay—being relative, that is. One missing father. One brother with a mending relationship. One brother with whom she probably had an over-attachment. The three Winchesters got in the car and shut their doors almost in sync. Then they headed out on the open road—heading wherever was going to lead them to their dad next.


	4. Dead in the Water

Elle sat at the counter in a near empty diner with Dean. She picked the last piece of bacon off her plate as she looked to her older brother who was intently searching a newspaper. He was searching the obituary section—something that she knew Dad had taught him to do. Dad used to look through the obituaries to find any suspicious deaths. Sometimes they ended up being a lead—sometimes they didn't. Either way, he would go chasing them across the country, often dragging his children along behind him. Elle reached across to sneak the newspaper from Dean but he swatted at her hand which caused her to begin to retaliate and smack him back. A throat cleared from behind them causing both Elle and Dean to look like deer in the headlights as the waitress named Wendy stared at them with her hands on her hips and a look that wasn't amused.

"Can I get ya'll anything else?"

A grin slowly spread over Dean's face as he checked out the waitress. Elle rolled her eyes. As far as waitresses went, the woman was very attractive; but leave it to Dean to flirt with anything with breasts. Well—anyone except her, of course. That would just be disturbing. Thankfully, before Dean could lay any sweet-talking on the woman, Sam showed up pushing Elle over on the bench. The waitress adjusted her color as her face began to flush. Clearly the woman found herself attracted to the Winchester brothers. Elle groaned. Why couldn't she have been born with uglier brothers? It wasn't fair that her brothers were just as pretty as she was—or that they were tall and intimidating to any guy that came within a one mile radius of their sister.

"You were saying?" Elle asked.

"I—uh—I just wanted to see if you needed anything else?" Wendy stammered.

"We'll just take the check, please," Sam said—clearly oblivious to the situation.

Dean furrowed his brow as Wendy nodded her head and walked away.

"What the hell was that for man?" Dean hissed at Sam.

"Oh come on—you didn't seriously think—"Sam started.

"I have needs you know."

"Oh God, I didn't need to know that," Elle groaned as put her hands over her ears. "Can't you wait to discuss your needs until I'm not within earshot?"

"Fine, we'll talk about me having some fun once in a while," Dean said as he examined Wendy's backside once more—especially her short shorts. "And that's fun."

"How many more words can you ruin in my vocabulary?"

"I wouldn't challenge him if I were you," Sam chuckled.

"I didn't."

"You're on Elle," Dean said with a wink.

"No! Please don't! Deeeeaaaannnn." Dean started to chuckle. "Oh God no-"

"Even if the big guy existed, I don't think he could help you now."

Elle muttered something under her breath as Sam reached across the table for the paper that Dean had been reading. Dean told Sam to check out the case he had circled. Elle leaned in closer toward Sam so that she could read the paper with him. The obituary Dean circled was for an eighteen year old girl in Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. Apparently this girl walked into the lake, but she never walked out. So far nothing too odd. People drown all the time. But it got a little more interesting than that. The authorities had dragged the water and nobody had shown up. Not only that but this Sophie Carlton was the third drowning in Lake Manitoc this year—and none of the other bodies were found either. While Elle wouldn't call it the most solid lead they'd ever investigated—there was something a little weird about it and even a little weird was enough to check-out in this line of business.

"Did you read the part about them having a funeral?" Dean asked.

"He's annoying when he actually reads," Elle muttered.

"That's not the only thing that annoys you." Dean winked at his sister which caused Elle to roll her eyes.

"You're right—that would just be you in general."

"What's so important about the funeral?" Sam interrupted.

"Well—it's weird. They buried an empty coffin—for closure or something," Dean answered.

"Closure? What closure? People don't disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them," Sam responded.

"That wasn't loaded at all," Elle muttered before Sam elbowed her.

"That isn't all that's loaded," Dean said toward Elle before turning toward Sam. "And you—got something you want to say to me rather than pussy-footing around it?"

"Fine. The trail for Dad. It's getting colder every day," Sam said stiffly.

"And? What are we supposed to do about it?"

"I don't know. Something—anything."

"You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You've had it since I picked you up in the first place. Now I was giving you time to deal with Jess and all—but damnit Sam, I'm sick of this shit with you."

"My shit? What about all the shit I have to go through with you?"

"Now this is just like old times—you two fighting," Elle commented. "I knew our moment of peace wasn't going to last long."

"Shut up, Elle," Sam and Dean said simultaneously while staring each other down.

"Sorry," Elle said rolling her eyes.

"Don't you think that I wanna find Dad as much as you do?" Dean questioned.

"Yeah man—I know you do, it's just—"Sam started.

"You're gonna start that one with me? I'm the one that's been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies and frat parties—"

"You weren't the only one," Elle retorted. "I was there too in case you've forgotten."

"Elle, I'd shut up unless you want to get dragged back into this."

"Touchy, touchy."

"Sam, Elle—I made you both the same damn promise. I said that we're going to find Dad and we will. But until then, we're gonna kill every bad thing between here and there. Got it?"

"Whatever man," Sam scoffed

"I wasn't even questioning that," Elle muttered before giving Dean an eye roll.

She blew a stray tendril of hair out of her face as Dean got distracted by the waitress with the short shorts. Sam looked once more to the newspaper before he asked Dean how far away Lake Manitoc was; but the oldest Winchester sibling didn't respond. Sam snapped his fingers in front of Dean's face to which Dean responded by slapping Sam's hands out of his face.

"I hate it when you both do that," Dean mumbled. "It's so damn annoying—just like the two of you."

"Don't lump me in with him," Elle started. "I'm not Sam annoying."

"You're right—you deserve your own category of annoying: bitchy annoying."

Sam tried to choke back a laugh. Elle looked to Sam incredulously. It was amazing how he could go from behind pissed at Dean one minute to laughing at his terrible jokes the next—then again, that was sort of the Winchester way of life. You'd be pissed at one sibling until the other did something more to piss you off; but at the end of the day—you were still family—however annoying one might be.

"I hate you both," Elle said before folding her arms across her chest defensively.

Sam ruffled his little sister's hair. Wendy came back with the check and Dean paid for their meals before they left the small diner and headed for the Impala. Elle took her usual seat in the back of the car. She was thankful that she had managed to sneak a pillow to keep in the car with her out of the motel room this morning. If someone missed the pillow they could just charge it to whatever fraudulent account Sam had charged the room to. As Dean started the car, Elle leaned her head on the pillow before Dean turned toward her with a grin.

"Lake Manitoc, here we come."

"You're a disgusting pervert. You know that?" Elle retorted as she buried her face in the pillow.

"So you've said on multiple occasions little sister. Just remember that you're the one that started this."

"No, I believe that would be Sam."

"Leave me out of this," Sam said with a smile.

"You're the one who—"

Elle didn't even get a chance to finish her sentence because Dean turned the volume of his music almost all the way up. Both Sam and Elle reached to cover their ears as Dean jammed to the music while putting the car into gear and taking off. Dean continued to make every day words sound perverted the entire trip to Lake Manitoc. Elle was secretly plotting Dean's demise by the time they pulled into Lake Manitoc—obviously; she would never go through with it; but picturing multiple ways for Dean to die every time after he opened his mouth helped keep her somewhat sane. As they passed the sign into the small Wisconsin town, Elle couldn't help but grin as she rested her chin on the front seat between Sam and Dean. She had never really had a hometown. She had never officially resided in Lawrence, Kansas like Sam and Dean. She had never had an established home for an amount of time in her life; but there was something about the wilderness and lakes of Wisconsin that she was drawn to.

But she knew that she was the only Winchester to have such an attraction to the state. In all honesty—John Winchester hated the state—well, second behind Kansas of course. Elle didn't know why her father hated the place; but Dean had told her that it had something to do with something that happened around the time she was born—or however she came into existence. That part of her life was still very much a mystery to her. Often times, when they were trying to blend in with society, Elle had to lie about her age. Her father had gotten very upset with her when she was in first grade because she told the teacher that her birthday was after her mom died. Obviously, the teacher knew biologically that couldn't be right—but Elle still insisted that her mom died before she was born. After that, John would always say that Elle was Sam's twin to everyone who didn't already know better—of course that was after he had yelled at Elle for talking about personal matters with someone who didn't need to know their business.

Sam snapped his fingers in Elle's face. She quickly shook her head before focusing her eyes on him as he laughed at her. Elle playfully whacked Sam's arm. Things had actually been pretty decent between them since they left Colorado. Granted, they were both Winchesters and incredibly stubborn—but other than that, they hadn't had any huge blowout fights. Just little bickering—which was completely normal between any of the Winchester siblings. Dean turned down a dirt road that led them to the rustic cabin. Sam tossed around some fake ID badges before they got out of the Impala and headed toward the door.

"Living in a cabin by a lake in the middle of the woods, miles from civilization is like asking for your life to be a horror movie," Elle commented.

"I'm sure that's not the only kind of movie that happens out here," Dean said with a wink. "If you know what I mean."

"Oh come on, you were doing so well—what was it, like five hours?"

"More like four and a half," Sam added.

"I rounded. Five hours sounded better."

"Well, it looks like you have to start counting all over," Dean said with a smirk.

"Ass," Elle muttered

Elle shook her head as Dean knocked on the front door of the cabin. A man opened the door. This guy was Will Carlton and he looked like couldn't have been much older than she was; but the look in his eyes looked about ten years too old for his age. Traumatic experiences did that to a person. It wasn't fair; but it was life and to be honest—life just sucked sometimes. Will Carlton looked between the three of them, but he didn't really seem to focus on them. His thoughts were clearly elsewhere. Dean cleared his throat before he continued.

"You Will Carlton?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, that's right," the man responded.

"I'm agent Ford. This is Agent Hamill and Agent Fisher. We're with the US Wildlife Service.

If Elle could have rolled her eyes without being noticed—she would have. Really Dean? Really? Star Wars actors' names? Elle just hoped the guy wasn't a big Star Wars fan as she quickly held her badge up; he did seem like the type. Thankfully, the guy was a little distracted and he decided to walk them down to the lake where his father sat. When Will's back was to them, Elle smacked Dean in the arm. He flashed Elle an annoyed look; but he didn't say a single word as they walked down to the dock where Bill Carlton, sat on a bench, seemingly drowning himself in his thoughts. Elle took her little notebook and digital camera out of the bag before she turned to Will, not Bill.

"If you wouldn't mind going over your story once more, please. We've read the report but we just wanna make sure that you didn't accidentally leave out any details," Elle said kindly.

"Of course, Agent Fisher," Will said with a nod. "She was about a hundred or so yards out." He then pointed out toward the lake with his index finger. "And that right there is where she got dragged down."

"Are you sure she didn't just drown?" Dean asked.

"I'm sure, she was a varsity swimmer."

"Actually, statistics show good swimmers are more likely to drown than non-swimmers. They get over-confident and think—"Elle started before she realized her terrible statistic and Sam's annoying glance. "I'm shutting up now."

"She practically grew up in that lake. Had been swimming in it since we were little. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub."

"Yeah—you're probably right. My mistake."

"So there were no signs of splashing? No signs of distress?" Sam asked, trying to cover for his sister's momentary lapse in judgment. Usually she was the one to easily read people's emotions; but she missed that one. Obviously.

"No, that's what I'm trying to tell you," Will groaned.

"I apologize. Like Agent Fisher said, we're just making sure you didn't forget anything in your report," Sam said glaring over at Elle and all she could do was shrug her shoulders in response. "Make sure you're writing this down."

"I am," Elle muttered.

"Now, did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breached the surface?" Sam asked.

"No," Will sighed. "Again, she was really far out there."

"You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?" Dean asked.

"No, never. Why? Why, what do you think's out there?"

"We'll let you know as soon as we do."

Will Carlton nodded in response, seemingly accepting that answer. Dean motioned with his head to walk back toward the car. Dean began to walk as Elle snapped a few photographs of the lake, careful not to look at Will Carlton and make things even more awkward. Sam, however, continued the conversation with Will who had both take a few steps behind Dean.

"What about your father?" Sam asked.

"What about him?" Will responded.

"Can we talk to him?"

"Hey look, if you don't mind. I mean—he didn't even see anything and he's kinda been through a lot."

"We understand."

"If you think of anything else, be sure to let us know," Elle commented.

Will Carlton nodded his head before he walked over to the bench where his father sat. Elle and Sam walked to where Dean was waiting for them before the three Winchesters returned to the Impala. Dean drove them back into the small town before parking the car outside of the Police Station. The three of them decided to split up for a bit. Sam and Dean were going to head into the police station to talk to an officer to get more information while Elle was going to find out about the local legends and lore. She knew that old people would probably be her best bet, but she didn't see a nursing home in sight so she went to the next best place—the local diner. She actually wasn't upset to be getting rid of Sam and Dean for a while. Sometimes, a person just needed some time away—no matter how much they loved the person. It was probably the introvert in her that wanted some time to recharge. The bell rung on the door as she walked into the small diner causing Elle to grin as several sets of eyes looked toward her. Elle chose to go sit beside an older man, wearing a Green Bay Packers t-shirt, who was sitting at the counter drinking his coffee. She knew exactly how to get him talking.

"How 'bout them Packers, eh?" Elle said—sounding more Minnesotan than she wanted to sound.

"Goin' all the way this year," the old man said, causing Elle to chuckle. She was pretty sure that's what everyone said about their favorite football team.

"You thinkin' Favre will retire after this season?"

"He's still got some years left in him."

"I'm sure he has got some stories to tell from his years playing."

"He's not the only one with stories, you know."

Hook. Line. Sinker. She had him and he didn't even know it. Of course, Elle really should have known better than to think that this was going to be that easy. No, the old man was a quite long-winded individual; but his prattling had nothing to with the local legends or lore of Lake Manitoc. Of course she did find out about the man's twelve children, thirty-two grandchildren, and eight great-grandchildren. At first it was rather interesting hearing the main go to such great detail about his family—something that Elle could hardly imagine. If Mom had actually lived, would they have had a big family? Hell, would she have even been part of the picture? She even could feel the jealousy beginning to grow in the pit of her stomach as the man showed pictures of his family. Thanksgiving with his family looked like quite the affair. Apparently, last year was a small year—with only forty-two. The bell on the front door rang and Elle turned to see Sam waving her toward him. Either she had spent an incredibly long amount of time talking with the man or Sam and Dean had been quite efficient in the police station. She leaned toward the former option. Elle generously took care of the man's tab before getting her hot chocolate to go. She walked outside to find Sam and Dean standing with a rather attractive woman outside a motel—although the woman actually didn't seem to be enjoying Dean's company. Elle couldn't help but chuckle as she took a sip of her hot chocolate—finally it looked like had Dean met a challenge in a woman. Elle drew nearer as the woman walked away, leaving Sam shaking his head at Dean. Dean threatened Sam to not say a word—but Sam just laughed.

"Do I even want to know?" Elle asked.

"Elle-Belle, did you know that Dean likes kids?" Sam asked with a grin.

"Since when? He's hated kids especially since the trauma you and I put him through."

"That is not true. I love kids," Dean said. "You two were just annoying exceptions."

"Really? Name three children that you even know," Sam scoffed.

Dean stood there thinking, but obviously coming up empty. Sam waved his hand at Dean before walking in to the motel. Dean scratched his head before scowling in Sam's direction.

"I'm thinking!" Dean called.

"You could've lied and named kids from some TV show or something," Elle said shaking her head.

"Good idea."

"He's not going to buy it now."

But it was too late. Dean took off behind Sam, leaving Elle standing on the sidewalk outside the motel. She swore she heard Dean make mention of liking a Stewie to Sam; but Sam must have heard their conversation because he easily guessed that Dean was listing his favorite character from Family Guy. She slowly walked into the entrance of the motel, just in time to watch Sam walk up to the front desk to ask for a room. After making sure to get their usual type of room, the three Winchesters headed back to the Impala to grab their bags before they found their room. Dean opened the door before all three of them childishly ran into the room, pushing and shoving, trying not to be left with the rollaway bed. Standing at only five foot two, Sam and Dean had a clear advantage against Elle and they weren't afraid to use their larger strides against her. By the time she was even a few feet into the room, both Sam and Dean had claimed the full sized beds. Elle stood there with her hands on her hips.

"You do realize that the term urban sprawling was invented because of how I sleep, right?" Elle said.

"You snooze, you lose," Dean shot back.

"What if I fall off the bed?"

"Put the extra pillows and blankets on the floor to give you a soft landing," Sam suggested.

"You both are assholes."

"Yet you love us anyway," Dean said with a smirk.

"That's what you think."

Sam and Dean both laughed at her as she grumbled something under her breath before she dropped her bag to the floor. Elle took a bit of a running jump before she flung herself across her tiny bed. Honestly, since she was shorter than her brothers, she really shouldn't be complaining about the smaller bed, but she had an unusual habit of taking over the whole bed. The only positive side was that some poor man wouldn't have to worry about her taking up the entire bed if they were married. Elle intended on never getting married. There was no use in dragging an innocent person into this life. There really wasn't a point to falling in love either—everyone she had known who had gone down that path had things end in pain, agony, and heartbreak. No, sir, that most certainly wasn't for her. Besides, she already had enough men in her life to drive her insane as it was. Elle rolled over onto her stomach and reached into her bag for her sketchbook and digital camera as she gave Sam the stink eye while he used his laptop on the table in the room. He had already warned her not to move to the bed he had claimed. She opened her sketchbook to a blank page before she started sketching the picture she had taken of the lake. Elle glanced up occasionally to see Dean going through his clothes that were in his duffel bag and Sam researching on his laptop. Sam leaned closer to his laptop screen with a slightly puzzled look on his face.

"Find something?" Elle asked.

"Yeah—there are more mysterious drowning victims than just our three this year," Sam answered.

"There always is."

"How many?" Dean asked.

"Uh—it looks like six more spread out over the past thirty-five years. One of them was a twelve year old girl. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it's picking up its pace," Sam said after he read an article from The Lake Manitoc Tribune.

"So, what? We got a lake monster on the binge?" Dean asked.

"Maybe Nessie has made her way over," Elle joked.

"Its shit lake monster theories like that that bug the hell out of me," Sam groaned.

"I was only joking."

"Someone's defensive, why?" Dean asked.

By this point, Elle was sitting up on her bed as Dean tossed the shirt he had been messing with onto his bed before he walked to stand behind Sam. Both Dean and Elle looked to Sam as he seemed to be processing how to carefully word what he wanted to say. Dean prodded Sam's shoulder. The younger brother shoved the older brother away before he explained.

"Nessie—Lake Champlain, there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts of them, but here almost nothing."

"In Nessie's defense, she could have come across the Atlantic and then traveled the St. Lawrence Seaway and Great Lakes. It's plausible," Elle said.

"Really?" Sam scoffed.

"Hey, it's my job as the younger annoying sister to give shitty off-the-wall theories sometimes. It helps our creative process."

"Whatever. All I know is that whatever is out there, no one's living to talk about it."

"Not so fast there cowboy—"Dean said. "This Christopher Barr name sounds familiar."

"Dean, he's the victim from May," Sam said.

"Look at the picture again."

Sam looked to his computer screen before looked to Dean and nodded his head. Elle wondered what she was missing, so she jumped off her bed and quickly walked over to where they sat at the table with the laptop. She saw the page's title Local Man in Tragic Accident. Underneath it was a picture of a police officer with a small boy.

"I don't get it," Elle said.

"Christopher Barr was Andrea's husband, Lucas's father. Apparently he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued," Sam responded.

"Is the kid still alive?"

"Yeah—we met him and Dean was flirting with his mother—remember, he does like kids now."

"Shut up," Dean growled. "I've always loved kids."

"Loved doesn't have some dirty connotation, does it?" Elle asked somewhat hesitantly.

"Now who's the perv?" Dean said with his eyebrow cocked.

"That will always be you."

"Can we get back to the case?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Elle and Dean said simultaneously.

"Well, it looks like we have an eyewitness after all."

"No wonder that kid was so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over," Dean said.

"Or anyone you love for that matter," Sam added.

Elle awkwardly pushed her hair behind her ears. She hadn't really experienced death in that way. Sure, her mother was dead—but she never really got close enough to people to lose them. There weren't many people in this world that would qualify—hell, one of the people she was close to could hardly even stand her; two were in the room with her and one was in South Dakota. She couldn't really think of anyone else to put on her list. She supposed it could be a good thing—then again, it could prove to be a downfall. She was thankful that neither of her brothers commented on the situation. Instead, Dean suggested that they go get something to eat before they start investigating a little more. They headed back to the diner Elle had visited earlier. Dean and Elle ate pie while Sam settled for a glass of water. Elle knew that she should probably be more concerned with her eating habits; but pie wasn't so bad. It had fruit in it, right? And fruit was healthy. Besides, if she got too fat, she could just blame Dean for teaching her poor eating habits.

When they were finished eating their pie, they headed toward the park. Elle spotted the lady who wouldn't give Dean the time of day. Dean must have seen her too because he led his younger siblings toward her. As they got closer to the bench, Dean gave her his famous grin; but she didn't look toward him. He then looked to Sam and nodded his head toward Andrea, mouthing for the younger Winchester to say something. Sam shook his head no, but Dean gave him an annoyed looked. They continued to have their silent argument until Elle rolled her eyes and took a step closer toward the woman.

"Can we join you?" Elle asked.

Andrea looked up to see Elle extending a hand toward her and Sam and Dean finishing up their silent argument in the background. When Dean noticed her looking at him he flashed her another grin.

"I'm here with my son," Andrea said pointing to a little boy on another bench with coloring materials and toy soldiers.

"Oh. Mind if I say hi?" Dean asked.

He didn't even wait for Andrea's response before he walked over to Lucas.

"Tell your friend this whole Jerry Maguire thing is not gonna work on me," Andrea said somewhat stiffly.

Elle shook her head slightly. The fact that the woman even said anything meant that it had to be working just a little. She just hoped that the woman would be able to continue to spurn Dean's advances. It was for his own good, really. Sam and Elle sat down on the bench beside Andrea.

"I don't think that's what this is about," Sam responded.

"Besides, I wouldn't exactly call him my friend," Elle continued after which, Sam elbowed her.

"You're related to him, aren't you?" Andrea asked.

"What—what makes you think that?" Sam spluttered. "She never said that."

"The fact that he's hitting on me when he already has a pretty girl already following him around. It's the only thing that makes sense. But like I said, it's not gonna work for him. I'm not looking for that or him."

There was an awkward silence between the three of them. For a moment, they sat and watched Dean interact with the kid. Whether Dean admitted it or not, he was pretty good with kids. He had to be. Hell, he practically raised Sam and Elle and they turned out—ok. Sure there were things he could have done better—but he had done right by his younger siblings. The scene kind of reminded Elle when she was younger, probably six or seven, when Dean snitched her a sketchbook and pencils. Dean had seen something in her scribbles back then and encouraged her to draw, something that she still did to this day. Elle couldn't help but smile at the thought—especially considering Dean was a crap drawer. But it looked like he was finishing coloring up a picture. Maybe she should have been the one to go talk to the kid. He seemed pretty fond of drawing and she was the artist of the family—but maybe Dean's craptastic coloring could get the kid to laugh. The oldest Winchester sibling headed back toward his brother and sister, without Lucas so much as muttering one word to him.

"Tough crowd," Dean said jokingly.

"Lucas hasn't said a word—not even to me. Not since his dad's accident," Andrea responded.

"Yeah, we heard about that. Sorry."

"What are the doctors saying?" Sam questioned.

"Uh—that it's some kind of post-traumatic stress," Andrea answered.

"That can't be easy. For either of you."

"We uh—we moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just-when I think about what Lucas went through-what he saw…"

"Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with. Elle here's living proof of that," Dean said.

Elle could feel her face flushing at the mention of her name. Dean went on to explain how she drew to as an outlet. There actually had been a time when Elle was younger that she suffered from some post-traumatic stress herself. She had stupidly gone after her father when he was on a hunt and nearly died—for the first time in her recollection. That was also the first time she realized what they were actually doing. John wasn't happy about the situation and Elle was traumatized to find out about the scary things out there. For Lucas, the disorder, manifested as him not talking. In Elle, there were a few months where she got little to no sleep. Dean would have to hold her tight in order to get her to sleep and even then, sometimes she'd wake up screaming; but Dean would be right there to calm her back down. Eventually, Dean figured out that Elle seemed to sleep better at night when she scribbled with crayons on napkins at diners. How he figured that out, she wasn't sure; but it led to him stealing her art supplies and the rest was history. She would draw as a release of her emotions and eventually she got back to being able to sleep on her own and all through the night. Elle sighed. While she could relate to Lucas, Dean probably was the one who would be best to help him—after all, he helped her. And Dean must have gotten something through to the little boy because he walked over to them and handed Dean a picture, saying nothing, before he headed right back to his bench with crayons and army men.

Later, back in the motel room, Dean and Elle were playing cards. The game they were playing wasn't Dean's particular favorite game with cards—but it was better than Elle's first suggestion of Go Fish. He regretted ever teaching her that game when she was little. Elle was just about to beat him when she became distracted by Sam walking into the motel room.

"Elle, I think it's safe to say we can rule your Nessie theory out," Sam said.

"Hey, don't go dissing, Nessie," Elle commented turning toward Sam, not seeing Dean mess with her cards. "You're going to hurt her feelings."

"I don't think it's possible she's behind the most recent attack—I drove past the Carlton house. There was an ambulance there and Will Carlton is dead—just like the others."

"He drowned?"

"Yeah—in the sink."

"The sink? How the hell does one drown in a sink?"

"Well whatever we're dealing with isn't a lake monster. Nessie'd never fit through the pipes," Dean said.

"Are you calling her fat?"

"Enough with the Nessie jokes," Dean growled. "We've got to figure out what exactly we're dealing with before it kills again."

Elle wanted to comment, but she knew that Dean snapping at her meant that he was worried. He was worried about Andrea and her son. Instead of saying anything, she slowly exhaled a breath before nodding her head.

"The question becomes: what. What are we dealing with?" Elle said coolly.

"I don't know. Water wraith, maybe?" Dean responded.

"Maybe it's some kind of demon."

"Whatever the hell it is, it's something that controls water—water that comes from the same source."

"The lake," Sam finally jumped in.

"Yeah," Dean agreed nodding his head.

"Which would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining."

"Of course! It'll be dry in a few months and whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time," Elle continued.

"And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere," Dean furthered before he stood up. "This is gonna happen again and soon."

"And we do know one thing for sure. We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton," Sam said.

"Yeah—it took both his kids."

"I've also been asking around. Chris—Lucas's dad—he's Bill Carlton's godson."

"I think it's time we go pay Mr. Carlton a visit."

Sam and Dean both headed toward the door without another word. Elle quickly got up and ran after them.

"Guys, can we go get a supply of bottled water first?" Elle shouted. "I don't want this thing coming after me while I'm brushing my teeth."

Her brothers both gave her really? looks before they got into the car. Elle didn't want to take any chances of this thing figuring out that they were talking to Bill Carlton and then it coming after them. Begrudgingly, Dean stopped at the gas station and Elle bought a 24-pack of bottled water before hauling it out to the Impala. Sam and Dean looked at her like she was crazy as she took a sip of water from the bottle before Dean drove them back out to the Carlton house. When they arrived at the Carlton place, they found Mr. Bill Carlton almost exactly where they had left him: sitting on the bench on the dock. Elle walked a few paces behind Sam and Dean. If there wasn't something in the lake killing people, she would have been sorely tempted to push one of them into the lake.

"Mr. Carlton?" Sam asked, causing Bill to look up with a great sadness in his eyes. "We'd like to ask you a few questions if you don't mind."

"We're from the Department—" Dean started.

"I don't care who you're with. I've answered enough questions today," Bill Carlton said grumpily.

"Your son said he saw something in that lake—" Sam started.

"I said I'm done answering questions!"

With a sigh, Elle pushed past her brothers, almost knocking Sam into the lake; but he quickly caught his balance. Elle sat down on the bench beside Mr. Carlton. He ignored her and started out into the lake. Elle did the same. She sat there quietly and stared out into the water. Sam opened his mouth to say something but Elle shot him a look to shut up.

"I'm sorry about Sophie and Will," Elle said quietly. "I can't imagine what it's like to have your children die before you."

"It's—it's worse than dying," Bill said with his bottom lip quivering.

"You must have loved them so much."

"I loved them more than anything in the world. It's what a parent does."

"You're a good father, I can tell that; but I also know that as a good parent you want justice for their deaths. Mr. Carlton, we have reason to believe that their deaths might have some sort of connection to you or your family."

"My children are gone and I can't do nothing about it. Go away, please."

Elle pulled out a notebook from her bag and wrote down her cellphone number before tearing it out and handing it to Mr. Carlton.

"If you're ready to talk please give me a call," Elle said. "We want to help."

Sam, Dean, and Elle walked back to the Impala. Elle reached inside and pulled out her water bottle. If they were going to be here a while, she should probably ration it; but the thought of avoiding any water associated with the lake seemed to make her thirstier. Sam asked what they were supposed to do now if Bill Carlton wasn't talking to them. Dean looked over at the Carlton house before he pulled the picture Lucas drew him out of his pocket. Without Dean even saying anything both Sam and Elle drew the next logical conclusion. Lucas had to know something. He might not talk about it; but he had to know something. Dean drove the car over to Andrea's house. Andrea reluctantly let them inside and offered them some lemonade in her living room. Dean expressed their wish to talk to Lucas; but she didn't think that it was a good idea for them to see him.

"Just for a few minutes," Dean pleaded.

"He won't say anything. What good's it gonna do?" Andrea asked.

"Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something's happening out there," Sam responded.

"My husband, the others, they just drowned. That's all."

"The tone of your voices says otherwise," Elle added.

"It's what I have to believe."

"If that's what you really believe, then we'll go. But if you even think there's a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let me and Elle talk to your son," Dean said.

Andrea sighed before she led Sam, Dean, and Elle upstairs to Lucas's bedroom. Sam, Andrea, and Elle stopped at the doorway; but Dean grabbed Elle's arm practically dragging her inside.

"Me?" Elle asked. "What good will I do?"

"You've been there before," Dean said.

"And you're the one that got me out of it."

"Elle-Belle, please?"

Elle reluctantly followed Dean inside. She looked behind her to see Sam motioning her forward. For some reason he also thought that Dean needed her help. She knew that she was a pretty decent empathizer; but this situation was actually bringing up a lot of old memories for her. They walked closer to Lucas who was coloring once again with toy soldiers standing around him in a circle, as if they were protecting him—protecting from something they couldn't see. Dean and Elle crossed the circle of toy soldiers before they knelt down beside Lucas.

"Hey Lucas. Do you remember me?" Dean asked.

Lucas didn't respond. Instead he continued to color a picture of a red bicycle.

"You know, I—uh—I wanted to thank you for your last drawing. But the thing is, I need your help again. I—um—I brought Elle this time. She's—uh—" Dean stammered.

"I'm his cousin," Elle finished. "I like your drawings. I draw too."

Elle pulled out her sketchbook and handed it to Lucas. Surprisingly he began to flip through the pages. For a moment he stopped on the picture Elle had drawn of her mother before he furiously began to flip until he came to the page Elle had drawn of the lake. Then Lucas grabbed his crayons and began drawing a person in the water on her picture. Elle was somewhat startled. She wanted to tear her sketchbook away from the boy, but Dean must have known how she'd react because he held tight onto her arm. Elle muttered something about Lucas making the picture look better. When he finished drawing the person, Dean put the picture of the house in front of Lucas.

"How did you know to draw these?" Dean asked. "Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me." But Lucas continued to color.

"Dean that never worked for me" Elle whispered.

"A little help please?"

"Lucas, you're scared and that's okay. Believe me I get it. I've been scared before. But you know who was there for me when I was scared? My big brother, Dean. He just wants to help you—like he helped me. Let him help you." Elle then turned to Dean before whispering low. "You need to relate to him. That's what helped me."

"Hey buddy—Elle's right. It's okay to be scared. I saw some scary things when I was little too. See when I was your age, I saw something really bad happen to my mom, and I was scared too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave for my mom. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too."

Lucas dropped his crayon and looked up at Dean and Elle. He handed Dean a picture of a white church, a yellow house, and a boy with a blue baseball cap and red bicycle in front of a wooden fence. Oddly specific. Dean thanked Lucas before he stood up. Elle reached for her sketchbook but Lucas quickly slid it toward him before he began to furiously flip through it again. This time he stopped at the picture of the place she went in her dreams—the lake on a starlit night. It was probably one of her favorite drawings she had done. Lucas then snatched his black crayon from the floor and drew what looked like a giant black bird—or pair of wings on her favorite picture. He stopped and then pushed the sketchbook back toward her before he returned to his own drawings. Elle wanted to scream at him for ruining her favorite picture; but Andrea was already gently scolding him—even though he didn't seem to be paying any attention to her. Elle shoved her sketchbook in her bag before she and her brothers went back to the car. The next thing to do was find the church and the yellow house—if they even really existed. As Dean drove to find the church, Elle couldn't help but complain about her ruined sketch.

"The kid freaking ruined my pictures," Elle grumbled.

"Andrea said that the kid never drew like that till his dad died," Dean countered.

"Okay—I understand the drowning body in one picture; but why ruin the other picture?"

"There are cases—going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions and psychic tendencies," Sam tried to rationalize.

"That never happened to me. Besides, what the hell is a black bird the size of a lake supposed to mean?"

"Elle, that's not really a priority right now. Right now we gotta figure out what's going on here. Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow?" Dean said. "I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, but unless you think there's something more important Elle—please, be my guest."

"I say one little thing and you get all bitchy at me," Elle muttered.

"Guys, you do realize we have another house to find," Sam said.

"Only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone," Dean grumbled.

"That's not the only thing the kid drew," Elle said rolling her eyes.

"What difference is going to church going to make, Elle?"

"You're an ass."

"I think the point that Elle is trying to make is that there are less than a thousand churches around here—especially ones with yellow houses around them," Sam said.

"Oh, College Boy thinks he's so smart," Dean said with a smirk.

"It was my idea first," Elle shouted.

"You were too busy calling me an ass to claim it as your own."

Elle slunk back in the back seat onto the pillow she had left back there to sulk. She knew that this little bickering wasn't going to last long between her and Dean—but still. He could be an ass sometimes. He tried to be all nice to her and then the next second he was an ass. Brothers. But when Sam brought up Dean talking about Mom, Elle couldn't really stay mad at him. It was almost that exact same conversation that helped her get through things. Elle sighed, knowing what Dean had been through with Mom. She wasn't sure what was worse—never knowing their mother or seeing her demise.

"Oh God, we're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?" Dean groaned.

Elle grinned and pressed a big sloppy kiss against Dean's cheek as he was driving. As he elbowed Elle, the Impala swerved a bit. Sam and Elle screamed a bit, but Dean only chuckled as he finished wiping Elle's slobber off his face. After a bit of searching, they came across a church that looked like the one in Lucas's picture. They stepped out of the car as Dean compared the fairly accurate picture to the scene in front of him. Just where Lucas had drawn—there was a yellow house with a wooden fence next to the church. Dean then led them over to the yellow house before he knocked on the door. An elderly woman answered the door with a smile on her face. Before even asking who they were, she ushered them inside to the entryway of her home.

"Would you like some water?" the woman asked.

"No!" Elle practically shouted at the woman.

"Forgive Elle, she's a bit jumpy," Dean said looking to Elle, giving her a look to behave herself. 'We're sorry to bother you, ma'am; but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue baseball cap, has a red bicycle."

"No sir. Not for a very long time now," The woman said her happy expression slowly saddening. "Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now."

The woman pointed to a picture of a young boy on the side table. Elle's eyes widened at the picture. The boy had on a blue baseball cap and was standing with red bicycle. There definitely was something up with this Lucas kid. Sam got down to Elle's level before he pointed out the toy soldiers on the table. Okay, now this was getting creepy. She looked to Sam who nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"The police never—I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared," the old woman said with misty eyes.

Dean walked over to where Sam and Elle were standing, examining the picture and toy soldiers. The woman continued talking as she stood behind the three Winchesters.

"Losing him—you know, it's—it's worse than dying."

"So we've heard," Elle sighed, realizing that Bill Carlton had said the exact same words.

The three Winchesters looked between themselves. This could be where it all began. It all had to come back to his point. Elle stood up and walked toward the woman. She gently took the woman's hand and squeezed it. But something caught her eye in the mirror.

"Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?" Dean asked.

"He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up," the woman answered.

Elle gently patted the woman's arm before she walked over to the mirror. She picked the picture off the mirror and examined it. There were two little boys in the picture. One was clearly Peter with his bicycle. She knew that older people tended to put names of people in the photograph on the back. So, she flipped the picture over and Elle shook her head. Sure enough: Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy. Elle held the photograph up to Sam and Dean who were asking Mrs. Sweeney a few more questions. She nodded toward to the door for them to leave before she put the picture back on the mirror. Sam thanked Mrs. Sweeney for her time before he headed out to the Impala with Dean and Elle. Elle opened another water bottle and she was just about to take a drink when Dean knocked it from her hands causing it to spill all over her. She tried to mop up the water, but she had a giant wet spot on the crotch of her jeans so it looked like she peed herself. Dean could hardly control his laughter.

"Damnit, Dean!" Elle hissed.

"You had something you wanted to tell us?" Dean asked trying to compose himself.

"You're annoying, you know that?"

"I meant something new—something you've never said before."

"Billy Carlton was besties with Peter Sweeney. There was a picture taken of them in nineteen seventy."

"Okay—so now to put all the pieces together…" Sam started. This little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton."

"Yeah—and Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?"

"Not to mention that all the people Bill love die. Because losing them is worse than dying," Elle added.

"They're getting caught up in this—but it's gotta be Bill the thing is trying to punish," Sam theorized.

"So—let's say that Bill did something to Peter," Dean said.

"Not just something, Bill killed Peter."

"Which of course would mean that Peter's spirt would be beyond pissed off," Elle added.

"It'd definitely want revenge," Dean finished. "It's possible."

"It's the only thing that makes any sense since you guys keep shooting down Nessie."

Sam and Dean both gave Elle a glare, causing her to put her hands up in defense and tell them she was just joking—sort of. Dean put the car into drive and sped back toward the Carlton place. After as many times as they had driven there, Dean had the route memorized. He stopped the car right outside the Carlton house. Dean and Sam got out of the car right away. Elle told her brothers that she'd be there in a minute. She wanted to change her pants because the crotch was still wet. She didn't want the guy thinking she was incontinent. So, Sam and Dean walked toward the house without her as she changed into a pair of athletic shorts because they were the easiest thing to change into from the backseat of a car. She was just about to put her shoes back on when she heard Sam and Dean yelling for Mr. Carlton. Elle looked up to see her brothers racing toward the dock. Forgetting to put her shoes back on, Elle ran out of the car in her socks. By the time she got down to the down, Sam and Dean were still calling for Mr. Carlton who was in his boat and going further out into the lake. Elle's eyes widened at the next sight of the water rising up and flipping Bill's boat over. He and the boat vanished.

"That could definitely qualify as traumatizing," Elle said thinking Lucas might have seen something somewhat similar.

"You think?" Dean said sarcastically.

"So, it got what it wanted. Do you think this is over?" Sam asked.

"Is it ever actually over?" Elle muttered.

"There's one way to find out," Dean said. "We could always throw Elle in."

"No, don't you dare! We don't know that thing is gone."

"Which is why we have you."

Dean nodded in Sam's direction. Elle tried to make a run for it but they each grabbed one of her arms. She started screaming bloody murder as her brothers lifted her off the dock by her arms. Were they really that stupid that they were going to sacrifice her to whatever was in the lake? Why did she always have to be the freaking bait? They dangled her slightly over the edge of the dock before they both started to chuckle and then they put her safely back on the dock. Elle whacked both her brothers in the arm. She began to march back toward the Impala.

"I was just kidding Jelly-Belly," Dean said causing Elle to turn around.

"First of all, I freaking hate you. You're an ass. You're both asses. Second of all, that nickname's worse than the other stupid nickname. Don't you ever call me a jelly bean again! Third of all, I will get my revenge on you. You wait and see. I'm going to get you good. Both of you." Elle threatened.

Elle's threats only caused Sam and Dean to laugh harder. They both knew that her bark was far worse than her bite. She sneered at them before she began her walk back toward the car. A man just died and they were joking around with her. She knew that it was most likely a defense mechanism, but still. She crawled into the backseat of the Impala when she noticed that Dean had left his keys in the ignition. She then locked all the doors. So when Sam and Dean tried to get into the car, they couldn't. Dean pounded on the window and demanded that Elle let him in. She chose to ignore him and drink some bottled water instead.

"Is this supposed to be your revenge?" Dean questioned. "Because it's pretty pathetic."

"This is just me being pissed at the two of you," Elle said looking straight ahead. "It has nothing to do with my revenge."

"Elle, we need to get out of here before the cops show up," Sam furthered.

"Should have thought about that before you tried to get me killed."

"We never actually would have done it."

"You're overreacting," Dean added.

"F-you," Elle responded.

Both Sam and Dean knew that if they couldn't rationalize the situation with their sister, then they were just going to have to wait for Elle to do things on her sweet time. They both moved to the hood of the car and sat down until a police car drove up the drive. Elle heard Dean mutter an obscenity under his breath as Jake Devins got out of the car. A truck pulled up. It looked like a team that was ready to go out on the lake. Jake stopped right in front of Sam and Dean.

"Officers, what seems to be the problem?" Jake asked.

"It's Bill Carlton—he—uh—well, you see it's a bit complicated; something attacked him and he and his boat went under," Dean explained.

"I did get a report of a drowning. Why don't you give me all the details in town?"

"Or we could do it right here."

"I wasn't asking you. I was telling you we're doing this in town. And to make sure that you don't take off I will be following you all the way back to the station."

Elle unlocked the doors before her brothers slid into the Impala, Jake watching their every move. Dean started the car, but sat there for a moment, just letting it run.

"He knows something," Dean said.

"And what exactly are we supposed to tell him?" Sam questioned.

"He's never gonna buy the truth," Elle responded.

"You know, if you wouldn't have been such a stubborn bitch we wouldn't be in this situation," Dean growled.

"Hey—don't go blaming this on me."

"We could have been on the road by now," Sam added.

"And now we have Devins on our ass, just great," Dean muttered.

Dean waved to Devins before he took off down the driveway. The drive back into town was a silent one for the Winchesters. Elle was trying to figure out a plausible reason for them being out there. Maybe she could say that Bill gave her a call—only phone records would show that he didn't. When they finally got into town, Jake led them to the police station. Inside the police station sat Lucas and Andrea, although Lucas was rocking frantically back and forth in a chair while Andrea tried to get him to calm down. When she noticed the Winchesters, Andrea greeted them by name, much to the dismay of Jake who immediately questioned what Andrea was doing there in the first place. Apparently, she was just trying to bring him some dinner—or at least that was her cover story. Elle could tell that there was something else on Andrea's mind and her suspicions were confirmed when the woman asked about Bill Carlton and the lake. Jake looked at her and sighed.

"Right now, we don't know what the truth is. But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home," Jake told Andrea.

Lucas then began whine loudly before he jumped up and latched onto Dean's arm. Dean looked at the young boy in confusion.

"Lucas, hey, what is it? Lucas."

But Lucas didn't respond to Dean. Andrea tried to calm her son down and pull him away from Dean. When she finally managed to break Dean free from Lucas's grasp, Lucas still wouldn't keep his eyes off of Dean. Something was off. It was as if he didn't want Dean to go anywhere. But why? This kid had been spot on about most things before—but what did this mean? He hadn't drawn anything terrifying. But Elle was interrupted from her thoughts by Jake ushering them into his office.

"Now, just so I'm clear, you three saw—something attack Bill's boat?" Jake asked.

"Basically," Elle responded.

"Sending Bill—who is a very good swimmer by the way—into the drink, and you never see him again?"

"Yeah, that about sums it up," Dean said.

"Besides, like I said before two-thirds of all drownings—" Elle started.

"I don't think the man wants a lesson in statistics," Dean muttered to Elle.

Jake leaned across his desk and shook his head.

"You really expect me to believe this? I've already sonar-swept that entire lake and they're out there doing it again. Not to mention that what you're describing is impossible—something big enough in that lake to capsize a boat—"

"Nessie," Elle coughed.

"You trying to be funny girl? Well how's this for funny—you three aren't really with the Wildlife Service." Jake stopped for a moment to examine their expressions. Sam's expression was stone. Elle's glance was on the floor. And Dean looked genuinely surprised. "That's right, I check. Department's never heard of you three."

"See now, we can explain that—" Dean started.

"Enough. Please." Jake said holding his hand up. "The only reason you're still breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat before you did and called it in. So, the way I see it is we have a couple of options here. One, I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. Or two, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again."

"Door number two sounds good," Sam responded.

"That's the one I'd pick."

"But door number one is awfully tempting," Elle responded before all the men in the room began to glare at her. "Sorry, defense mechanism. I get sarcastic. Door number two it is."

"Good. I want to see you out of my town within the hour."

They went back to the motel and quickly packed their things and headed out of town. They stopped at the first fast foot place outside of Lake Manitoc for dinner before they headed for I-43. Elle wasn't exactly sure where they were going—and she was pretty sure Dean didn't know either. Dean was lost in his thoughts and was fairly quiet, which wasn't completely unusual—but she expected something from him. They came to a stop at a traffic light before they got to I-43. If they turned left they would head north toward Milwaukee. When the light turned green, the Impala just sat there. Thankfully there wasn't a car behind them—otherwise there definitely would have been honking.

"Dude, green," Sam said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"The light is green," Elle clarified for Sam.

Dean looked between his siblings before he took a hard right turn, headed in the opposite direction. Elle reached for something to clutch onto.

"What the hell?" Elle gasped.

"Uh—man—the interstate's the other way," Sam added.

"I know," was all Dean responded.

Dean continued to watch the road.

"Can I ask where we're going?" Elle questioned.

"Where do you think?" Dean grumbled.

"Uhh—I don't recall a door number three."

"Well, I'm making one."

"But Dean, this job, I think it's over," Sam said trying to rationalize with Dean.

"I'm not so sure."

"We talked about this. If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirt got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest."

"Remember you did try to throw me in the lake after all," Elle added. "You wouldn't have done that if you didn't think—"

"All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?"

"But why would you think that?" Sam asked.

"Because Lucas was really scared. That's why."

"That's what this is about? What's with the fascination with this kid? Feeling sentimental?"

"I just don't want to leave town until I know the kid's okay."

"I've only seen you act this way once before and the details are a little hazy."

"If you're talking about me—" Elle interrupted.

"Of course I'm talking about you. But man, Elle's your sister. This kid—"

"I just want to check and make sure the kids all right and then we're out. I promise," Dean said.

"Who are you? And what have you done with my brother?"

"Shut up."

"I thought I was special, Dean," Elle teased.

"Shut up." Was all he repeated, but Elle didn't miss his smirk in the rearview mirror.

It was somewhat late by the time they pulled up in front of Andrea's house. There weren't any lights on that they could see. Everyone must be asleep—or that would be the typical assumption; but Dean got out of the car and walked up to the front door. Sam and Elle looked to each other before they followed him onto the front porch.

"Are you sure about this, man?" Sam asked. "It's pretty late."

Dean responded by ringing the doorbell. At that exact moment, Lucas opened the door with his eyes wide in terror. It was obvious he was afraid—but of what remained unknown. Dean got down to the boy's level and shouted his name; but the boy didn't say anything. Instead he took off in a dead sprint for the stairs. Dean quickly took off right behind him and Sam and Elle were behind their older brother. As they ran up the stairs, they had to be careful not to slip on the water that was cascading down the stairs. Elle wasn't going to say anything; but she assumed the worst was going to happen. In the hallway, they could see Lucas pounding on a door Elle assumed to be the bathroom door since the water was pouring out from underneath it. Dean pushed Lucas over to Elle who wrapped her arms tightly around him as Dean kicked in the door. Dean told Elle to keep Lucas outside the bathroom. She nodded in agreement. Despite the fact that he had ruined her pictures, the poor thing didn't need yet another traumatic experience in his life. Lucas squirmed under her arms; but he couldn't escape.

"Sweetheart, it's safer for you out here," Elle whispered to him. "Your mom would want you to stay safe. She loves you and wants you to stay safe. Sam and Dean are going to do their best to help her."

Lucas seemed to stop struggling for a moment, taking in Elle's words before he started to squirm again. Elle just held him tighter as she could hear Sam and Dean somewhat struggling to get Andrea. Andrea gasped for breath but then there was another sound of her plunging into water. Elle wished she could unhear what she heard for Lucas's sake. But finally, the sound of Andrea coughing up water and Dean telling her that it was going to be all right gave those in the hallway reassurance. Elle whispered to Lucas that his mother was safe; but she held tightly on to him until Andrea came out into the hallway wrapped in a bathrobe. She released him and watched the tender moment between mother and son—a moment that could have been forever taken away from them had Dean not had some sixth sense to come back to Lake Manitoc. Lucas clung to his mother—not wanting to let her go. Andrea just held on to him, even bringing him downstairs and letting him sleep on the couch just so she could keep a close eye on him.

Sam and Dean stayed in the living room with Lucas, while at the same time rifling through bookshelves for anything that could help them solve this case. Things should have ended when Bill Carlton sacrificed himself; but the fact that Andrea almost died meant there was more to the puzzle. Once Andrea was in some actual dry and comfortable clothing, she sat at the kitchen table while Elle made her some tea.

"You're lucky that there really isn't a way to ruin tea," Elle chuckled. "I'm not exactly domesticated. But I don't really get much of a chance living on the road with my two knuckle-headed brothers."

Andrea didn't respond. Elle sat the mug of tea in front of Andrea which the woman eagerly accepted. The mother of Lucas took a sip from the mug before returning her glance outside. Elle sat down across from Andrea.

"Can you tell me?" Elle asked.

"No," Andrea said flatly. "It doesn't make any sense."

"It doesn't have to make sense. Believe me I've seen my fair share of things that don't make sense."

"I'm going crazy," Andrea began to cry. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

"No, you're not. What Dean said about my traumatic experience was true. I—I saw something that couldn't possibly be real—or at least I didn't think it could be real at the time; but it was. It was terrifyingly true. Shutting it all inside and telling yourself that you're crazy makes thing worse. You don't have to tell me, but you need to tell someone and Dean, Sam, or I will believe whatever it is you tell us. It's not too crazy for us."

Andrea was silent for a moment before she looked to Elle with her eyes shining with tears as the sunrise began to filter through the curtains.

"I hear—I thought I hear—there was a voice."

"What did it say?" Elle asked.

"It said—it said 'come play with me.'"

Andrea began to sob harder. Elle reached her hand across the table and grasped Andrea's. Elle tried to put on a friendly face for the woman to look to; but honestly, she didn't like always having to do the womanly emotional/empathizing stuff—even if she was good at it. Suddenly, Dean came rushing into the kitchen with a scrapbook in his hands. "Jake 12 years old" is written on the spine. He sets the book down in front of Andrea and bends down to her level.

"Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?" Dean asked.

"What?" Andrea asked looking to Dean. "Um—uh—no. I mean, except that's my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures."

Dean nodded his head for her to continue talking; but her fingers slid across the photographs. Elle saw the picture upside down, but she could tell what Dean was trying to get from Andrea. He wanted her to see the picture beside the one of Explorer Troop 37. The picture of Jake, as a child, standing next to Peter Sweeney. Elle's eyes met Dean's and he nodded.

"Do you know this kid?" Dean asked Andrea.

"No—I've never seen him before," Andrea sniffled.

"His name is Peter Sweeney. He died around the time this picture was taken," Elle said lightly.

"Dad's never mentioned him."

Dean motioned for Elle to follow him. Sam, Dean, and Elle met in the doorway.

"We've been wrong about Christ Barr's drowning," Dean said. "The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the sheriff."

"Or both—Bill and the sheriff were both involved with Peter," Sam continued.

"Meaning that he was on this spirit's hit-list since the moment he came into existence and then he upped the ante when he married into Jake's family," Elle added. "Poor guy."

"What about Chris and my dad? What are you talking about?" Andrea said walking toward them with the mug of tea in her hand.

From where she was standing, Elle had the best view of Lucas as he got off the couch and walked toward the window. He just stood there and stared. Elle elbowed Dean before she pointed to Lucas. Dean looked concerned as he called Lucas's name. Lucas turned toward them, but he didn't look at them. Instead, he walked right past them and out the front door. The four adults followed after the young boy who almost seemed to be in some sort of trance. His mother called for him, but he continued to walk without turning around and looking at her. Lucas suddenly stopped and began an intense staring match with the ground. He then looked to Dean for a split-second before returning his gaze to the same spot on the ground. Dean turned toward Andrea.

"You and Lucas get back in the house and stay there, okay?"

Andrea nodded her head before she began pulling her son back toward the house. All the while, Lucas continued to stare at that patch of ground. Dean told Sam and Elle to go back to the Impala to get some shovels so that they could start digging. Elle looked back at Dean as she walked away, but his eyes were on Andrea and Lucas watching from the window. She didn't fully understand his attachment to them—but if Sam's assumption was correct, it might have had something to do with her. Sam and Elle came back with three shovels and they immediately began digging. They were a ways down when Sam's shovel clanked against something metal. Whatever it was—was done there. The Winchesters dug quickly with their hands before a red bicycle was unearthed.

"This looks familiar," Elle commented.

"Peter's bike," Sam added.

"But why the hell is it here?" Dean questioned.

"Who are you?" a voice growled from behind them.

Elle, Sam, and Dean armed themselves with shovels before they turned around to reveal their identities to Jake who had a gun pointed at them. Elle took a few steps to her left so that Sam's body was somewhat a shield for her.

"Put the gun down, Jake," Sam said calmly.

Sam usually was the stable negotiator of the group. Elle and Dean sometimes ran into problems—especially those years Sammy wasn't around. Jake nodded to the shovels they were armed with. Immediately, the Winchesters dropped their shovels; but Jake continued to aim his gun at them. Elle muttered her frustrations under her breath. Jake took a few steps closer to them, his eyes were practically disbelieving of the red bicycle beside the Winchesters.

"How did you know that was there?" Jake asked.

"What happened Jake?" Dean asked. "You and Bill kill Peter? Drowned him in the lake and then buried the bike?"

"You can't bury the truth," Sam added. "Nothing stays buried."

"You did try pretty hard though," Elle commented.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," Jake said gruffly.

"You and Bill killed Peter Sweeny thirty-five years ago. That's what the hell I'm talking about," Dean growled.

"I don't know how much plainer it gets than that," Elle added.

"Now, do the right thing and put the gun down," Sam said.

"Would it help if we said please?"

"Dad, what are you doing?" Andrea pleaded.

"Go back to the house," Jake growled. "This isn't any of your business."

"Actually it is," Dean argued. 'We've got one seriously pissed-off spirit that's gonna take Andrea, Lucas, and everyone you love."

"Do you hear yourself talking? You're crazy."

"No he's not. It's gonna drown them and it's gonna drag their bodies God knows where," Sam added. "All so you can feel the same pain Peter's mom felt."

"The feeling that's worse than dying itself," Elle explained. "And after you feel that pain and suffering, it's gonna take you and this isn't gonna stop until it does."

"And how do you three know that?" Jake spat.

"It's exactly what the thing did to Bill Carlton," Sam said.

"You're insane. All three of you. I should have you carted off—"

"I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us; but if we're gonna bring this spirit down, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust," Dean explained. "Now please tell me that you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me that you didn't just let him go in the lake."

The look on Jake's face said it all. He looked toward the lake for a brief second before looking back to the Winchesters. Elle groaned. She could tell that Peter was in the lake—somewhere—if they were lucky maybe they would find him. But until then, no one connected to Jake Devins was safe. Andrea questioned her father, trying to get him to come clean. At first, Jake just brushed his daughter off—but when she pleaded with him to tell her that he didn't kill anyone, Jake looked away. Andrea took a few steps away from her father in shock, knowing what the Winchesters had already assumed to be true.

"Billy and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank." Jake explained, his voice beginning to quiver. "Oh, Andrea, we were just kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake. But Andrea, to say that I have anything to with these recent drownings, with Chris, because of some damn ghost. It's just not rational."

"In case you haven't noticed, not much about life is rational and I've only had twenty-one years of them," Elle said.

"What do we do now?" Andrea asked Dean.

"You three—and any family you have in the area need to get as far away from this lake as possible. You gotta find a place that has no connection to this lake," Dean said. "And you can't come back until you know his body has been found and properly disposed of."

"You just expect me to pack up and leave everything?" Jake asked.

"If you love your family and want to keep them safe, then yes, you will."

"If you're questioning my love—"

"He's not. He's just trying to help keep them safe," Sam intervened. "Please, you gotta understand that we're trying to help."

Then, it seemed as if everything began to move in slow-motion. Andrea turned her head for a brief moment before she released a bloody-curdling scream. She saw Lucas headed down for the lake. She must have believed what they were saying because she took off toward her son, followed by the three Winchesters and Jake. Jake of course, was not in his best shape so it took him a little longer to reach the dock. They were halfway down the dock calling Lucas's name, when he reached into the water to pick up a toy soldier that had fallen in the water. Dean called for him to stay where he was; but Lucas's hand grasped around the toy and then a hand tightly clutched around Lucas's hand. The hand yanked hard, pulling Lucas into the water. The mute boy disappeared under the water as Peter held him under the water with a smile on his face. The dead kid was kinda creepy with his face sticking out of the water and his gaze on Jake. Jake stopped when he recognized Peter as he let Lucas up for a breath of air before pushing his head back under the water. Andrea tore her jacket off and was about ready to jump in when Sam and Dean jumped off the dock. Elle took hold of Andrea's arm, stopping her from jumping in after them. She tried to fight it, but when Sam came

"Andrea, you can't go in there," Elle said.

"My son is in there!" Andrea yelled at Elle.

"We will get him! You just need to promise me that you'll stay on the dock. I—I will go out there for you."

Andrea nodded her head. Elle wasn't sure why the hell she agreed to jump into a lake with a vengeful spirit in it—probably had something to do with the fact that she felt for the woman, despite the fact the she didn't really know how to swim. Why did other people's pain have to become her own? Elle wrapped her fingers around her nose, plugging it before she took the plunge in after her brothers. If she could survive Constance pushing her into a moving body of water—she should hopefully be able to survive finding a kid. Her brothers both came up for some air before going back down—Elle wasn't exactly sure what she was doing, but she followed her brother's lead. Then suddenly, she felt a hand wrap around her ankle. Elle had anticipated the hand of a vengeful spirit to be much colder, meaning that it wasn't Peter's hand—it was Lucas's. Elle needed a breath, so she came up for air but hand its grasp. How had Lucas managed to find her in this murky water? She looked down and the only thing visible was the bright red of her Converse sneakers. She needed to keep dog-paddling so Lucas could find her again. She was god-awful at this swimming thing—but she refused to put her head under the water unless absolutely necessary. "Sam, Elle?" Dean called.

"It's too dark," Sam said coughing up water.

"He can see my shoes," Elle responded.

"Toss me one!" Dean demanded.

Elle yanked her left shoe from her foot before she chucked it at Dean like a football. He caught it easily before he dove down into the water once again dangling Elle's shoe for Lucas to spot. Sam followed after Elle because her other shoe was still on her foot. While they were under, Jake took off his jacket and began to wade into the water shouting for Peter to hear him. The Winchesters shouted for him to go back to shore, but the man didn't listen. Instead he looked bravely ahead as Peter surfaced. Jake begged for it to be over to which Peter obliged and dragged Jake down under the water. Andrea screamed for her father. The Winchesters dove under the water once again—they had to save someone, Elle reluctantly followed behind, plugging her nose before she went under. Elle was the first to surface, coughing up water. She wasn't the most proficient swimmer—hell, she wasn't even a proficient doggy-paddler. Andrea looked to her in tears before she tore her gaze to Sam who came up for air next. Sam shook his head before Andrea cried out "no!" Elle became worried for Dean. He hadn't surfaced yet. Had Peter taken him? He had saved her countless times—now it looked like he needed her. Elle dove under once again, with her nose plugged, she swam a few feet when she noticed Dean somewhat struggling to get to the surface. She reached for his arm and pulled as hard as she possibly could. He looked to her, fearing that she might be Peter out for revenge—but when he noticed that it was Elle, he kicked harder to get the weeds wrapped around his foot off. Finally, Elle surfaced with Dean who was holding tightly onto Lucas who wasn't moving, but was clutching tightly to Elle's red Converse sneaker. Dean coughed up water as Elle helped him guide Lucas to the dock where Andrea burst into tears. Andrea lifted her son onto the dock before he began to twitch. The twitching led to coughing and then his eyes flinging open; but he still held tightly onto that shoe. Sam, Dean, and Elle got out of the water and onto the dock as Andrea held onto her son tightly.

"Looks like those damn expensive shoes of yours came in handy for once," Dean said to Elle. "Lucas found the shoe and he grabbed a hold of it before he passed out."

"Speaking of Lucas, we should probably get him inside and warmed up," Sam said.

Dean nodded before he easily picked Lucas up and headed for the house. Andrea stayed right by Dean's side. Elle couldn't help but smile and Sam grinned at Elle knowing exactly what she was thinking. Too bad this life was so difficult otherwise Elle might have thought that Andrea could have been a decent match for Dean. Elle sighed and wrapped her soaking arm around Sam, leaning heavily on him. She wasn't sure whether to feel happy that they rescued Lucas or sad that Jake had to sacrifice himself in order for that to happen. Usually they were in the business of saving people—not losing them. Sam and Elle grabbed their duffel bags out of the car so that they could change into some dry clothes. Back in the house, Dean was starting the fireplace as Andrea fussed with getting Lucas out of his wet clothes and into a blanket before letting him rest on the couch.

They sat there in silence until Lucas went to sleep. And even when Lucas was asleep, Andrea watched him for a good twenty minutes before she said a single word to the Winchesters. She offered to put their dry clothes in the dryer and then to fix them up something to eat. They knew that Andrea was making excuses for them to stay a little longer to make her feel a little safer. Elle couldn't help but smile at Lucas on the couch sleeping. He was cuddled with her shoe—the shoe that had been like a lifeline for him. Elle set the other one beside him. She could always get new shoes. Elle then meandered onto the dock, just to think. She was surprised when Dean wasn't too far behind her.

"Just wanted to tell you that we're heading back to the motel in five," Dean said.

Elle nodded. Dean turned to head back to the house; but Elle stopped him.

"Does Lucas remind you of me?" Elle asked Dean.

"A bit," Dean chuckled. "He's not as bitchy though."

"I'm not a bitch. I just know I have to be one in order to get a word in with you guys."

"I'm just teasing. But maybe that's what drew me to this one. God, Elle it was hard seeing you like that when you were little. I was scared you would never get over it. Just don't tell anyone I said that—otherwise I will deny it."

"And do you think it's over here?"

"I do. Jake was the last thing Peter's spirit needed. Can't say I like how things went down—but it's over."

Elle tightly hugged Dean. She hugged him for being her big brother and because she could have lost him tonight. She hugged him for always being there for her and just because. She knew she didn't hug him enough—then again, hugging wasn't a big part of the Winchester family appreciation methods. Maybe that could change—at least for her.

"What's this for?" Dean asked going rigid.

"I don't think I ever thanked you for what you did for me when—" Elle started.

"Elle, you don't have to thank me. You're my little sister and I was just doing my job."

"But you still deserve appreciation. I know I get snarky and everything, but I wouldn't be the person I am today without you."

"Son-of-a-bitch Elle. You had to make this a chick-flick moment, didn't you? You know I don't do chick-flick moments."

"You know you love me."

"You keep telling yourself that."

"I will."

Elle flashed her brother a grin before she walked away from him, flipping her hair behind her. With her back to him, Elle didn't notice the grin on Dean's face. It was too late when she heard him running after her on the dock. She turned to see him sprinting toward her with his hands outstretched. She moved to run, but his hands met her body, giving her a proper shove and pushing her into the lake. Elle screamed as she fell in with a giant splash. She spluttered as she came up for air, with a pissed off expression on her face.

"Look at that—you're all dripping wet," Dean said with a giant smirk on his face. "How's that for dirty connotations for you?"

"You. Ass." Elle hissed through gritted teeth. "I just changed my clothes."

"Way too much information, Elle-Belle. I don't wanna hear about that."

Dean childishly covered his ears with his hands. Elle mustered up a sneer before she began to splash Dean with water. He started running up the dock toward land, covering his face with his jacket as Elle followed him to the shoreline in the water, splashing him the entire way. Once they were out of the water, Elle jumped onto Dean's back before he took off running with her on his back, laughing toward the car. They found Sam waiting, shaking his head. Elle slid off her brother's back and quickly grabbed another change of clothes to change into before she said goodbye to Andrea. Dean let Andrea know they were headed to town to stay in the motel for the night—so that they could get a decent night's sleep before they hit the road tomorrow. Andrea nodded her head and waved awkwardly as Dean and Elle walked out the door. They were almost to the car when Elle reached up and gently smacked Dean's head.

"If ever there was a time a girl wanted you to kiss her—that was it and you missed it."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

After a night in the motel—to which Elle beat both the boys to a full-sized bed, relegating Dean to the rollaway bed, they were ready to leave Lake Manitoc about mid-morning. Dean was a little quite though. Elle knew he was beating himself up over not being able to save Jake—or maybe not kissing Andrea; but she assumed it was the former. As the boys packed up the car, Elle sat on the hood of the Impala flipping through her sketchbook. She stopped at the lake picture with the big black poorly drawn bird on it. All of Lucas's other pictures had meant something and come true so far—but this one she had no idea to what it was referring to. Death perhaps? But she was pretty sure reapers didn't look remotely like that. She quickly shut her sketchbook when she saw Andrea and Lucas walking toward them. Elle jumped off the front of the car and walked over to where Sam and Dean stood as Andrea and Lucas drew closer

"We're so glad that we caught you. We just—um—we made you lunch for the road," Andrea said as Lucas offered a tray of sandwiches toward them. "Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself."

"Can I give it to them now?" Lucas asked.

"Of course."

The Winchesters smiled at the sound of Lucas's voice. While things would never be exactly normal again, they could start going back to somewhat normal. Andrea smiled and kissed Lucas on the head before she pushed him a bit toward Elle.

"Elle, Lucas has something to give back to you," Andrea said as Lucas held the red Converse out toward her.

"Nah—you keep 'em," Elle said with a smile. "Besides, they'll look much cooler on you."

Lucas grinned as he kicked off his own shoes and put Elle's shoes, which were too big for him, on his own feet. Dean then suggested that Lucas help him finish loading the car. Sam asked Andrea how she was holding up. Clearly, the situation had taken its toll on her—but she was optimistic to still have her son alive. For which she said she would forever be grateful to the Winchesters and they had an open invitation to her home. Dean walked Lucas back toward them before he got down on his knees to talk to him.

"All right, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase, so I want you to repeat it one more time."

"Zepplin rules!" Lucas shouted.

They all chuckled as Dean nodded his head. Elle walked toward Lucas. She had to know if he remembered anything. She pulled out her sketchbook and opened it to the picture that she had been examining earlier. He looked at the picture for a moment before Elle spoke to him.

"Hey Lucas, do you remember what this means?" Elle asked him holding up the sketch he scribbled on.

"I don't remember," Lucas said sadly. "I want to help you, since you helped me. I'm really sorry."

"It's okay," Elle said pushing a stray hair out of her face. "Really, I'm sure it's nothing."

"But buddy, you helped a lot. Besides, you can help us even more by taking care of your mom for us," Dean said ruffling Lucas's hair.

"All right," Lucas said with a grin.

Dean stood up and Andrea kissed Dean, which clearly surprised him. He then walked around to the driver's side of the car. With one finger, Elle motioned for Lucas to come a little closer to her.

"He's not the only one that deserves a kiss for his bravery," Elle chuckled before she pressed a peck against Lucas's cheek. Lucas's face turned bright red, but he looked quite pleased with himself.

"Sammy, Elle-Belle—move your asses. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road," Dean said.

Dean jumped into the car and started the engine before Sam or Elle could get in as Bad Company's Movin' On came through the speakers. The Winchesters smiled and waved at Andrea and Lucas who were waving goodbye to them. Dean put the car into drive and they took off down the road. Elle took a sandwich and reached for her hoard of bottled water; but she couldn't find it anywhere in the back.

"Is my water up there?" Elle asked.

"You gave Lucas your shoes, so I gave him your water supply," Dean said with a smirk.

Elle playfully whacked her brother in the arm as the Impala hit the open road with the Winchesters ready for whatever came their way—which hopefully would lead to their father soon. It was only a matter of time, right?


	5. Phantom Traveler

Another night. Another city. Another motel. Elle slung her backpack and her duffel bag over her shoulders before she slammed the Impala's car door shut. She looked upward into the night's cloudy sky, lifting her face toward the rain. There was something about the rain that she loved. It probably had something to do with the thought of the rain washing away any pain or agony, leaving things fresh and new. Of course, she knew it was just a nice thought; but sometimes one just needed something hopeful to cling to. Her reverie in the rain caused Sam and Dean to get a head start on her to their new room for the night. Elle splashed through the puddles in her new blue Converse sneakers trying to catch-up to her brothers so that she could get one of the bigger beds. But she was too late. Her brothers had left the door open for her, claiming both the full-sized beds for themselves meaning she would get the smaller roll-away bed.

"You two are assholes," Elle muttered.

"You're the one who chose to stand out in the rain," Dean said kicking his wet shoes off and resting his feet on his bed.

"We didn't have this problem when someone was off at school."

"Really? You're gonna pick a fight about that?" Sam groaned. "First you're pissed that I leave. Then you're pissed that I'm here. Make-up your mind, Elle."

"Someone's grouchy."

"You just insulted the guy, what else do you expect?" Dean commented.

"I'm sleep-deprived. You both know that you can't hold me accountable for what I say when I'm like this."

"She does make a fair point."

"I might be less insulting if I got some sleep in a bigger bed."

"Not gonna happen," Sam scoffed.

"You snooze you lose, little sister," Dean said solemnly before flashing a grin.

"Have I mentioned how much I hate you two?" Elle groaned.

"Never."

"You might have to say it a few more times for it to sink in," Sam added.

Elle glared at both her brothers before shutting the door behind her with her foot. With a huff she walked over to her bed for the night and plopped onto it as Sam flicked the television on as he relaxed on his bed. Elle pulled out her cellphone. There were no missed calls or messages. For some reason she had been hoping for word from their father. Although, she was probably the last person he would contact. He would probably call Sam before he would call her; but there was just some part of her that wanted him to have a change of heart and realize how much she loved him. How much she tried to please him—despite knowing that it was never going to be enough. She didn't know why, but after the last few cases, she wanted to see if maybe her dad was proud of her and how she worked on these cases. But that was probably too much to ask for. Elle was startled by Dean who snapped his fingers in her face.

"Earth to Elle-Belle."

"I was thinking," Elle said kicking her brother in his shin.

"I don't care what you were doing. I'm hungry. Let's go get something to eat." Dean slapped Elle's thigh.

"That hurt."

"That was the point. Now let's go. Sammy?"

"I'm just gonna stay here," Sam responded with a yawn.

"It's food. How can you say no?"

"Maybe we're not related to him?" Elle suggested.

"It's the only logical explanation."

"Ha. Ha. You two are hilarious," Sam said sarcastically.

"At least he finally admits it," Elle said with a smirk.

Elle motioned with her hands for Dean to help her to her feet. Dean grumbled as he pulled his sister up by her arms until she was standing straight on her feet. Elle followed Dean outside and into the rain which was beginning to downpour. She pulled the hood of her sweatshirt up to shield her face from the water as she ran toward the Impala. For once she actually got the front seat—something she had gotten used to until a few months ago. Dean slid into the driver's seat beside Elle. Elle couldn't help but feel comfortable. She loved Sam, he was her brother, she had to—but she always felt safe with Dean. He had always been there for her—since she could remember—or at least, if he was being an ass, he always had her best interest at heart. Dean drove them to the closest diner near the motel. Elle considered having what she referred to as old faithful: a burger and fries; instead, she opted for the evening's special of a French Dip sandwich with au jus and fries. Dean got a bacon cheeseburger and fries.

"Have you noticed anything off about Sam?" Dean asked.

"What do you mean?" Elle asked taking a sip of soda.

"I don't know—he's just acting weird."

"You'd act weird too if you hadn't seen your family in two years and then when you finally get one big happy family reunion your girlfriend dies. Just sayin'."

"You think this is about Jess?"

"Have you or Dad ever gotten over what happened to Mom?"

"Over it? No. I just learned how to deal with it I guess."

"Mostly by burying it, as is the Winchester way; which answers the question about Dad. But the situations are fairly similar. You've had years to process Mom. Sam's only had weeks."

"I guess you're right."

"Usually am."

"Don't forget I taught you everything you know."

"That's not true. You made Sam teach me about feminine products."

"Hey, I helped with that."

"You sat there laughing your ass off. It wasn't helping."

"Sammy was much more informed about the subject."

"Because you made him read the instructions. Something I was more than capable of—you just wanted a laugh."

"Would you have preferred Dad have done it?"

Elle didn't answer, leaving them hanging at an awkward moment. Whenever John Winchester got brought up—things got awkward. But she did ponder Dean's question in her head. No, she definitely wouldn't have preferred that their father tell her. It had been much more entertaining watching Sam try and mumble his way through it embarrassingly with Dean rolling on the floor in laughter. Elle slightly smiled as Dean motioned for the check.

"Do you think we should bring Sam back some food?" Elle asked her brother.

"I think I saw some grass outside the motel. I'm sure it all tastes the same," Dean responded.

Dean took the bill from the waitress as Elle asked her to tack a garden salad on there for Sam. The older Winchester commented that he still thought grass would have been good enough for which Elle kicked him under the table. Dean shook his head at her because this was the second time she had kicked him that night. Elle wasn't typically prone to violence unless she was comfortable with someone—then sometimes it was hard to tell whether she did it because she was joking around or because she was actually pissed. She always played it off with a playful expression, but Dean knew that deep-down she wasn't always doing it for a laugh. The waitress eventually came back with a salad in a to-go container and a new check, which Dean grudgingly paid before they ran back out to the Impala in the rain. When they were back in the motel's parking lot, Elle slipped in a big puddle covering herself in mud. Dean laughed at her expense as she tried to get the mud off—but it was everywhere: all over her pants, down her shirt, in her hair…among other places. The only way to get fully clean was to shower—and she wasn't up for showering naked outside in the rain, so the shower in the motel bathroom would have to make do. Elle walked into the room with her clothes and hair dripping with mud. Sam, who was still awake, took one look at her and burst out laughing. She narrowed her eyes before she threw the bag at him with his dinner in it.

"Enjoy your tossed salad," Elle commented as the container opened up and spilled salad over Sam's bed—and partly over him.

"Damnit, Elle," Sam hissed.

"I didn't know it was actually going to do that."

"You're going to clean this up right now."

"No, I'm actually going shower."

Elle then raced to the bathroom, making sure to grab her duffel bag on the way there. Sam was quickly behind her. If she could make it to the bathroom first and lock the door, she would be free. Elle slammed the door and locked it just in time as Sam practically body-slammed the door. Thankfully, the door didn't come off its hinges otherwise Dean would definitely be pissed with the extra charges. Elle smack-talked Sam from behind the bathroom door before catching a glimpse of how dirty she actually was. Her eyes almost looked like raccoon eyes with mud circling around them. She shook her head at her appearance before she turned the shower on. For being a motel, the water pressure was actually pretty good and the temperature was almost perfect. She stayed in the shower longer than normal because she knew that eventually Sam would get annoyed with the salad on his bed and clean up the mess himself. The longer she stayed in the shower the less likely it was that she had to clean the mess.

When Elle finally got out of the shower, the mirror was fogged up with steam. With her hand she wiped a small area so that she could examine her appearance once more to make sure the mud was gone. She then changed into an old baggy t-shirt that had been handed down from Dean to Sam to her and a pair of boxer shorts that had not been handed down. Her wet dark hair hung down her back as she exited the bathroom and the steam followed behind her. Sam was sitting on his bed with his comforter thrown in the corner. He had a sour expression aimed at her to which she responded with an overly fake smile before she carefully sat on the roll-away bed which squeaked with every motion that she made. This bed was going to drive her insane, especially since she flailed when she slept. Elle pulled her sketchbook out of her backpack. She stopped at the picture she had drawn of the lake but Lucas Barr as scribbled something in black over it. She was still puzzled what the hell a giant bird or a pair of wings could mean. Everything else he had drawn had come true—and yet nothing had happened about this picture. Granted, he was pretty messed up after that accident—but still—something was just off about it. She flipped the page to a blank one, but she stared at it for five minutes with no idea what to put on the page. She looked over to Sam and Dean who sat there watching whatever crap was on television. Giving up on drawing and actually watching good television, Elle fell back on her pillow and quickly fell asleep.

It didn't take long for her to enter her dream world. Once again, she was brought to that isolated lake under the cover of nightfall in her subconscious. There were just stars, trees, and water for as far as she could see. A rough voice called her name: Campbell. Something inside Elle shuddered. The only person she knew who called her Campbell was her father and the way he said it, well, it seemed almost as if it were an insult. But this didn't sound like her father. Not even close. The voice didn't seem pissed-off enough to be John Winchester; but then again, in one's dream world anything could happen. Elle looked around the darkness for a face—or something creeping in the woods; but she didn't see anything. Then the name Campbell Winchester resounded through the air. Next thing she knew the dream was over. Her sleep for the rest of the night was dreamless and restless.

In the morning, Elle was rudely woken up by Dean pouring a cup of water on her face. Elle spluttered awake, gasping for breath and trying to get the water off her face. She tried to swat at Dean's hand to stop him; but he just kept lifting his arm higher and since he had a height advantage, the water didn't stop until the cup was fully empty. Elle was pissed off when she saw Dean standing there grinning from ear to ear and Sam sitting at the table slowly drinking from a disposable coffee cup. She stood up on the roll-away bed and snatched the cup from Dean; but she went crashing to the floor in the process because the roll-away bed had collapsed beneath her. This already was turning out to be a terrible morning; but she didn't want to jinx herself by saying that she didn't know how it could get any worse. Elle rolled onto her back while on the floor.

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey," Dean said with a grin.

"You're an ass," Elle hissed from the ground to her brothers. "And you're an ass for letting him do it."

"Ass? C'mon, Elle-Belle, be a little more original."

"Son-of-a-bitch," Elle mocked.

"Good morning to you too," Sam chuckled.

Elle shot Sam a glare before her eyes moved to the alarm clock. It was only six in the morning. Her brothers knew better than to wake her up before seven a.m. What was one more hour going to hurt? Now she was going to be grouchy all day and it was Dean's fault. She picked herself off the floor and moved to go to the bathroom, but Dean's arm grabbed hers.

"Something came up while you were asleep," Dean said.

"Like what?" Elle said regaining possession of her arm.

"Like Dean almost murdered me the weapons he sleeps with," Sam added.

"I did not. I stopped before it even got close to that," Dean shot back.

"Is that what you really woke me up for?" Elle groaned.

"No, we woke you up because we gotta hit the road. We got a case."

"A case? Where?"

"Pennsylvania. You remember Jerry Panowski from a couple years back?"

"Panowski," Elle repeated.

She walked over to her backpack and pulled out a sketchbook that had been completely filled. She flipped through the pages until she found the name Panowski. A poltergeist. Those things were creepy—as were most of the things they dealt with; but these things manifested themselves by moving and influencing inanimate objects. Jerry and his poor family had been scared out of their minds. But that particular one had been rather vicious. John had been extremely pissed-off by the objects it chose to take over—which left him in a foul mood when it came to her and Dean as well—more so her.

"Is it back?" Elle asked Dean.

"No, but Jerry thinks it could be worse," Dean responded.

"Like what?"

"Wouldn't say. Just asked if we could talk in person. Which means we need to hit the road."

"How do you expect me to function at this hour?"

"I got you a hot chocolate," Sam said looking up from the newspaper he was reading and pointing to the cup on the table. "But I'll be nice and I won't throw it at you."

"I told you it was an accident."

"Just hurry up and get ready before Dean decides to almost murder you too."

"Really?" Dean muttered.

Thankfully, Elle wasn't one of those girls who took forever to get ready. She brushed her hair and teeth, but on a tiny bit of mascara before she dressed in one of her plaid shirts, jeans, and grey Ugg boots because her blue Converse sneakers were still muddy from the night before. Dean always called those boots Uggly; but Elle didn't really care. They were comfortable and kept her feet warm, which in her mind was the part of her body that regulated her body temperature. If her feet were cold, then so was the rest of her. If they were comfortable, then so was the rest of her. In a grand total of twenty minutes, the Winchesters were out of the room and on the road headed toward Pennsylvania. From the backseat, Elle drank the hot chocolate Sam had gotten for her. It was a little cold for her liking; but it was still sweet of Sam to remember that she liked hot chocolate for her caffeine intake.

When they finally arrived at their destination, they walked over to the airplane hangar where Jerry said to meet him. He vouched for them to get through the minimal security before he motioned for them to follow him through the hangar to his office. Sam, Dean, and Elle followed the man who seemed a bit paranoid. Once you entered the world of the supernatural, your life was forever changed. Elle sometimes wondered if life was better being completely oblivious to what was out there; but that would never be an option for her unless she somehow had her memories completely wiped and the creatures out there didn't know she was a Winchester. As Jerry led the way, he turned his head back now and then to talk to them.

"Thanks for making the trip so quick. It really ought to be me doing you guys a favor, not the other way around," Jerry said before he turned to Sam. "Elle, Dean, and your Dad really helped me out a couple years ago."

"Yeah, Dean told me. It was a poltergeist?" Sam responded.

A random person must have been somewhat listening to their conversation because he shouted that he loved the movie Poltergeist.

"Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking," Jerry shouted at the man before he turned around and lowered his voice a bit. "Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for you two and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive."

"The drawer full of knives flying around the kitchen was probably the worst part. Seemed like a freaking horror movie," Elle commented.

"Worse. Sam, your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?"

"Yeah, I was. I'm—taking some time off," Sam responded.

"Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time."

That thought stung at Elle's heart. She remembered that. John had talked about Sam more times than he even attempted to talk to her or about her combined. She didn't understand why he acted the way that he did toward her. The only thing she could figure out was that she was a girl and like Dean had told her, she had her mother's eyes. But now wasn't the time to get wrapped up in herself. She needed to pay attention to the conversation if she was going to be any help. But she didn't really focus on the conversation again until they were in Jerry's office. Apparently, he had something that he needed them to listen to and Elle could tell by his tone that whatever was that sound clip scared the shit out of the guy. Jerry sat down at his desk and motioned toward the two chairs in front of his desk. It sort of felt like going to the principal's office on the first day of school or something. Elle opted to stand, letting her brothers sit down. Jerry cleared his throat as he put a CD into a drive before he gave an introduction to about what they were about to hear.

"Now normally, I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours."

The recording started. The pilot was shouting "Mayday!" for help from air traffic control. The pilot assumed that there was some sort of mechanical failure when there was a loud whooshing sound and growling. Elle bit her nails as Jerry continued to explain the situation after the clip. Apparently, they crashed two hundred miles south of their current location. Somehow the cabin depressurized—only no one knew how. Elle wasn't an expert on airplanes by any means; but if it depressurized it would seem like a mechanical failure—but after hearing that sound at the end of the clip, it could be almost anything up their alley. Jerry continued that out of over a hundred passengers on board—only seven got out alive. Honestly, that was more than Elle anticipated. Usually one didn't hear about survivors with those types of crashes. But then the case took a personal turn for Jerry. The pilot, Chuck Lambert, was one of Jerry's good friends. If this was personal for someone—things could get ugly and quick. But Elle did know that Jerry was a decent guy. He had actually been nice to her the last time she saw him. Hell, he had talked with her more than her father did on that hunting trip.

"Chuck is—uh—well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault," Jerry added.

"You don't think it was?" Sam asked.

"No, I don't."

There was a moment of silence when the Winchesters looked to each other. Elle leaned forward so her face was near her brothers' ears so that they could have a bit of a private conversation.

"What do you think?" Dean asked Elle.

"This sounds like our kind of creepy," Elle whispered.

"I agree."

"Me too," Sam said before clearing his throat. "Uh—Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors."

"All right," Jerry said with a nod of his head.

"And is there any way we can—uh—take a look at the wreckage?" Dean asked.

"The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage—fellas, Elle, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. Now way I've got that kind of clearance."

"We understand," Elle said as Dean furrowed his brow.

"No problem," Dean said, clearly lying through his teeth.

"We'll—uh—just take what we can get," Sam finished.

"What he said."

Could Dean be any more obvious? Elle flicked him on the back of the head while Jerry was busy gathering the passenger manifests and list of survivors. She knew that one way or another they were going to get to that wreckage—and it was probably going to be highly illegal. Every once in a while that fact bothered her—but she had grown so numb to the black and white picture that almost everything was grey. Jerry took the CD out of the drive and put it into a case before he handed it and manila file folders over to Dean. Dean in turn passed it on for to Elle to carry. She rolled her eyes at his childish move before they told Jerry that they would update him on the situation once they had something substantial to go on. The Winchesters piled into the car and Dean drove them into the nearest town, claiming that he had an errand to run at the local Copy Jack. Elle knew that the only time Dean used that store was to make fake IDs; but she wasn't quite sure what other kind of ID badges they could possibly need. Dean walked inside, leaving Sam and Elle behind in the Impala—to cause less suspicion on what he was doing inside. Sam asked Elle to hand him everything Jerry had given them before he looked through it for a few moments.

"All right, do you wanna mess with the recording for EVP or make some phone calls?" Sam asked.

"Are you honestly asking me that question?" Elle asked.

"That's right—you hate talking on the phone."

"I don't hate it—I just don't enjoy it. I'd much rather do it face to face. I mean, I got embarrassed calling Bobby about—"

"I get it. I'll make the phone calls. Use your headphones though."

Sam handed Elle his laptop. She flashed her brother a smile as she set the computer on her lap before she reached for her bag to pull out her headphones. She plugged the headphones into the jack and put them over her ears before she reached her hand toward Sam. He put the CD over her index finger, somewhat like a ring. Then she put the thing in the laptop and opened a program to help her change the frequencies and edit the sound. While Elle played with the sound clip, Sammy made phone calls from the front seat—to whom she assumed were the survivors from the flight. Sam got out of the car to get some fresh air before he pounded on her window. Elle held up her index finger for him to give her a minute. She knew that Sam probably would have had this figured out by now; but she wasn't as savvy with editing sound clips as Sam. Just then, she got it. The voice managed to give her shivers as "no survivors" played through her headphones. Dean must have finally come out of the store because he and Sam slid into the Impala as Elle played the recording again.

"Creepy," Elle stated.

"What did you call me?" Dean asked.

"Not you. This."

Elle yanked the headphones out of the jack and replayed the clip for her brothers to hear the voice say "no survivors."

"That's definitely EVP," Sam commented.

"But what's with no survivors? There were seven survivors," Dean added.

"You've got me."

"Maybe we need to figure out what was talking before we figure out what it meant," Elle said.

"So then what are we thinking? A haunted flight?" Dean asked.

"There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers-," Sam said.

"Like I said earlier—creepy," Elle commented.

"Because you've obviously never seen worse," Dean said sarcastically.

"You're telling me that you never even get the slightest bit creeped out?"

"Like I told Sam this morning, no. Now, Sam, what were you saying?"

"Uh—or it could be something like flight 401," Sam said.

"Right, the one that crashed and then the airline salvaged some its parts and put 'em in other planes. Then the spirit of the pilot and he copilot haunted those flights."

"Just a thought that it could be something similar."

"All right, so let's start with the survivors. Which one do you want to talk to first?"

"Third guy on the list: Max Jaffey."

"Why him?"

"The guy lives around here and if anyone saw anything weird, it was definitely him."

"What makes you say that?"

"When Elle was working on the EVP, I made a few phone calls. I talked to his mother and she told me where to find him: Riverview Psychiatric Hospital."

"What do you say we pay him a visit with our IDs?"

"New IDs?" Elle asked.

Dean smirked at Sam before he tossed it into the backseat before he put the car into drive. Elle searched the backseat, in the piles of the boys' clothes, her clothes, canisters of salt, her pillow, and her old sketchbooks—to try and find the ID Dean threw back there. She found beside an empty water bottle before she examined it. She was not amused. Dean had used a picture of her when she had been sleeping and apparently she was with the Federal Bitch of Investigation. Elle smacked Dean's arm and demanded that he give her the actual one. She had forgotten that every time Dean got new badges he always got her a joke one to annoy her and get a laugh. Dean laughed as Elle glared at him using the rearview mirror. She held out her hand for her new ID to which Dean responded by telling Sam to give it to her. Sam handed her a Homeland Security badge. They hadn't used that department yet—clever. Dean wasn't a complete idiot at times.

They arrived at Riverview Psychiatric Hospital and went inside to find Max. A nurse led them to Max's room and suggested that they go out into the garden because it was Max's scheduled time for fresh air. Max walked down the halls with a cane and led them to the garden. Honestly, from the little she had seen of the man, Max Jaffey didn't look crazy to her. Then again—maybe he just wasn't showing another personality or something yet. But she knew that it was probably whatever happened on the plane that was affecting his mental state. He couldn't process what had happened and assumed that it was his brain playing tricks on him. Funny how that was easier to believe than the truth.

"Now I don't understand what you're doing here. I already spoke with Homeland Security—and the FBI—and every damn agency I can think of." Max said as he leaned heavily against his cane.

"Right—uh—some new information has just come up," Dean responded.

"What new information? I've told you guys everything I know."

"Mr. Jaffey, please let us ask the questions," Elle interrupted.

"You're right, sorry."

"So—just before the plane went down, did you notice anything—unusual?" Sam asked.

"Like what?"

"You know—strange lights, weird noises, maybe," Elle said.

"Or voices? Any voices?" Dean added.

"No, nothing like that," Max said tensing up and looking in a different direction.

"Mr. Joffey—" Dean started.

"It's Jaffey," Max said simultaneously with Elle. Elle blushed at the eye contact she made with Max after she said it.

"Jaffery," Max repeated.

"Yeah—Jaffey. You checked yourself in here, right?" Dean asked to which Max responded with a nod. "Now can I ask why? I'm guessing it's not the food and the view."

"I was a stressed. I survived a plane crash. Do I really need another reason?"

"That's really what terrified you? What you're afraid of?"

"I—I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"That's usually a sign that he's hiding something," Elle commented.

"I agree. See, I think that he did see something up there. Something that we need to know," Dean added.

By this point, Max had been already walking away from them—well, more like hobbling away from them; but he stopped. The man stopped and sat down on the nearest bench. Dean sat down beside him and Elle knelt down beside him. She looked to Dean who nodded his head. She batted her eyelashes a couple of times before she opened her eyes a little wider than normal, forcing Max to get lost in her eyes. Elle reached for his hand, but he broke the connection by looking away. Elle backed away a bit, but she was still on her haunches as Sam stood on the other side of Max.

"Please," was all Elle said.

"No, no, I was—delusional. I was seeing things," Max groaned.

"It's okay. Just tell us what you think you saw, please," Sam added.

"You have our word that whatever you tell us will stay between us. We won't tell anyone that you were our source," Elle said calmly, finally grasping the guy's hand and giving it a firm squeeze.

Elle knew that she was manipulating the guy's emotions—but it was what she was good at. By acting like she was actually there for the person made it look like she cared—which made them trust her. She knew that once she was allowed physical contact, they usually broke. It was for their own good though. She needed to do it—in order to solve the cases. Just as long as she didn't have to do it too often—it could be emotionally draining being a master manipulator—or as Dean liked to call her a manipulative bitch with a heart. Just as Elle predicted, Max broke.

"I—I—There was…this—man. And, uh, he had these…eyes—these, uh—black eyes. And I saw him—or I thought I saw him—" Max broke before stopping suddenly.

"Saw him what?" Dean asked, as Elle gently rubbed a circle on Max's hand to urge him to continue.

"He opened the emergency exit. But that's impossible right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on the door."

"This man—uh—did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?" Sam asked.

"What are you, nuts?"

"Don't answer that," Elle said looking right to Dean who had his mouth opened to speak.

"The guy was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me."

"I know this does seem impossible," Elle responded. "But something tells me that maybe you weren't seeing something—that it actually happened."

"But where would a guy get that much strength?"

"Adrenaline rush?" Dean suggested with a shrug of his shoulders to which Elle responded with an icy glare before she turned back to Max.

"Please don't beat yourself up too much over this," Elle sighed. "You just need time to process this."

"And how does one process something like this?"

"Well—first of all, I'm gonna say that the people at this place are paid to diagnose you as crazy to get your money. But what do I know? I'm just with Homeland Security."

Max chuckled before Elle patted his hand and stood up straight on her feet. Sam and Dean were already on their feet staring at her. She rolled her eyes and headed toward the exit of the place. Dean couldn't help but tease her on the way to the Impala.

"Look at you wrapping them around your little finger and stringing them along."

"Learned it from you—I just don't sleep with them," Elle retorted.

"Ouch, that hurts," Dean said pretending to clutch his heart like Elle had just pierced it.

"It should, you're the first one I got wrapped around my little finger."

"Your voodoo jedi mind stuff doesn't work on me."

Elle cocked an eyebrow at her brother. Her eyes then suddenly got wide and her hands flew at her stomach as she began to scream and fall to the ground. Dean's face turned to concerned as he got to the ground and reached for his sister. He frantically called her name as he rolled her onto her back on his knees. She then stopped crying and started laughing with a huge grin on her face. Even Sam, who was momentarily scared, couldn't help but chuckled.

"You're not whipped at all," Sam laughed.

"Son-of-a-bitch," Dean muttered as he pushed Elle from his lap. "And don't go pointing fingers at me, Sammy. You were right behind me, meaning that if I'm whipped, you're whipped."

"Leave me out of this. This is between you and Elle."

"Oh no, you're in the middle of this."

"Score one for the voodoo jedi mind powers," Elle smirked asked. "That name also doesn't make sense by the way."

"I'm leaving without you."

Dean then practically ran to the driver's door of the Impala. Elle scrambled to get to her feet when she heard the engine roar. She was barely in the car and hadn't even shut the door before Deal raced out of the parking lot. In the car, Sam looked at the passenger manifest to see who was sitting in from of Max. Apparently, the guy's name was George Phelps. Sam found his address, causing Dean to do a U-turn so they could head to his home and check things out. The Impala stopped in front of a rather nice looking house—not exactly a creepy lair type of place. Then again, things weren't always as they appeared. The three Winchesters stepped out of the car and followed the sidewalk to the front porch.

"Man, I don't care how strong you are—even yoked up on PCP or something. There's no way you can open up an emergency door on a flight," Dean said.

"Nothing human at least," Elle added.

"So maybe this guy—George—was something else. Maybe he's some kind of creature in human form," Sam argued.

"Does this really look like a creature's lair to you?" Dean questioned.

"Appearances can be deceiving," Sam said—speaking Elle's mind.

"Which is why we need a look beyond what we can see."

"And how are we gonna do that?" Elle asked. "Last time I checked, none of us had x-ray vision or any super powers."

"No, I was thinking something much more human. Elle, you got that camera in your bag?"

"Yeah—why?"

"Because you need to use the bathroom."

"No, I don't."

"When we get inside you do."

"Why can't you or Sam do the snooping?"

"Do Sam or I look like we have weak bladders?"

"Really? What does one with a weak bladder exactly look like?"

"Like a girl— you look a little more feminine than Samantha over there and as you've pointed out, my boobs aren't getting me anywhere."

Elle whipped out her camera and took a very unflattering picture of Dean, blinding him with the flash before she pressed the doorbell. Dean swatted his sister away but quickly stood upright when Mrs. Phelps answered the door. Her eyes were puffy—as if she had just recently been crying. The oldest Winchester sibling introduced them to the woman. She seemed hesitant to let them in at first, but she finally let them in her home and led them to the living room. Elle sat beside Mrs. Phelps on the couch, while Sam and Dean sat in chairs across from them. She had hardly had a seat when Dean made an obvious look to her. Without saying anything, she tried to tell him to give her a minute. Dean then cleared his throat with a look at her. Elle shook her head—not yet.

"Mrs. Phelps," Dean said. "Elle's been talking about needing to use a bathroom for the past hour. She's just too polite to say anything. Is it all right if she uses yours?"

Really?

"Oh—of course," Mrs. Phelps sighed. "George never got around to fixing the one down here. So it's upstairs and the first door on your right."

"Thank you," Elle said sweetly before she narrowed her eyes at her brother.

As Elle blocked Dean's view of Mrs. Phelps he mouthed bowel movement to which Elle responded by sticking her tongue out at her brother. Sam was covering his mouth trying not to laugh. It wasn't the most mature thing, but it was all she could think of that Mrs. Phelps wouldn't see. With her bag slung around her shoulder, she headed upstairs. As she walked up the stairs nothing seemed out of place. There were pictures of a happy family. Pictures of Mr. and Mrs. Phelps at different places around the United States: Mount Rushmore, Washington D.C., Times Square—nothing seemed wrong with the pictures. They seemed genuinely happy. When Elle came to the bathroom door, she practically slammed it so that the sound would echo downstairs. She now had a few minutes to quietly snoop. She had her camera out to take pictures of anything out of the ordinary.

She walked down the hallway a bit and stopped outside their bedroom. The door was left open. Sometimes these people made things easy. She walked in. Again, nothing seemed off. There was a crucifix on the wall—nothing evil would stand for that, right? Elle stared at it for a moment. She wasn't sure how she felt about that whole deal. She knew that Dean thought it was a load of crap—but she knew Sam believed in God, angels—the whole nine yards. Elle wanted something to believe in—and when she was at her lowest points, she was pretty sure she did—but if there really was a God, why would he give her a life like this? She knew according to the Bible that everything was supposed to be part of God's plan or whatnot and in times of distress she got it—but at other times she overanalyzed things.

Elle quickly examined the other rooms—noticing nothing weird. She then quietly opened the bathroom door so that she could flush the toilet. She supposed if she had to find something weird about the place was that there were like 5 different kinds of toothpaste. But if she remembered correctly, Mrs. Phelps had said her husband had been a dentist when they walked in. Elle quickly flushed the toilet and headed back downstairs where Sam and Dean were still talking with Mrs. Phelps. Sam turned to look at her but she just shook her head. Dean must have noticed because he made a joke about needing to get her some laxatives once they left—which was met flat by Mrs. Phelps. Sam then thanked the woman for her cooperation and the Winchesters took their leave. Elle punched Dean in the arm for the laxative joke when they were almost to the car. When they were all in the car—they found out that the other found out nothing to help them. This meant they had to kick things up a notch. They needed to get inside the NTSB warehouse and view the wreckage. But first—they needed to look the part a little better. Well—at least Sam and Dean did. Elle knew that she was going to be the bait—the lookout. All she had to do was dress hot as Dean said.

Dean parked the Impala outside MORT'S for style, muttering to himself. Elle was going to go inside and judge their apparel, but Dean banned her from going in. He knew her well enough to know that she was going to make fun of him. Granted, she was still probably going to make fun of him when he came out—but it was his way to lessen the blow of humiliation. Elle sat on the hood of the car with her sketchbook. She started to draw how uncomfortable Dean would look in a suit—although when he finally came out, her picture hardly did his awkwardness justice. Elle practically fell onto the hood of the car in laughter to which Dean responded by throwing his street clothes at her.

"Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers," Dean groaned.

"No, you don't. You look like a—seventh grader at his first dance," Sam laughed.

"I would say that's an under exaggerating things," Elle smirked.

"Shut up," Dean hissed at hell before looking down at himself. "I hate this thing."

"Hey, you want into that warehouse or not?" Sam questioned.

Elle laughed at her brother as he slammed the door behind him as he slid into the Impala. She jumped off the hood and headed to her backseat and Dean drove to the warehouse where the wreckage was being stored. They made sure to park the Impala just outside the gates, just in case something happened. This way they could still get away. Because something was always bound to go wrong. Sam and Dean went in first dressed in their suits and ties, impersonating Homeland Security. Elle waited outside for a few minutes, waiting for the all clear from Dean. Her phone buzzed. It was a text from Dean.

Drop a button.

She looked down at her button-up plaid shirt and rolled her eyes. How many overprotective brothers intentionally asked their sisters to dress a little more suggestive? She unbuttoned one button as she walked toward the warehouse. As she walked closer she figured out exactly what story she was going to use. It was probably most distracting and time-consuming to play the ditzy damsel in distress—something she could pull off easily. She adjusted her shirt to make sure that an appropriate amount of cleavage was showing before she opened the door. Elle made her eyes water as she practically ran to the desk. The first thing the guy looked at was her boobs—Dean had called it. Elle fake sniffled which caused the guard to look up at her.

"How can I help you miss?" the man asked with a smile.

"My—my car broke down. This was the first place I could find because I couldn't call anyone since phone died. It's like I'm Amish or something. And I have absolutely no idea where I am. I should've paid more attention when I was learning about cars. I mean I know how to put gas in, check the oil—and my brother tried to teach me how to put a spare on, but he made me do it in flip flops and shorts on a muddy gravelly road—so I was pissed off and I don't remember what I'm supposed to do—" Elle rambled, forcing the tears to start flowing from her eyes.

"Hey—slow down there. No need for tears. You need to make a call?"

"Please? You have no idea how eternally grateful I'd be."

"It's just a phone. Go ahead and just tell me the number."

The man handed Elle the receiver of the telephone and she told him the number to dial. She had him call one of their backup phones. They'd have to get rid of it if it—but burn phones weren't that expensive these days. Elle acted like she was having a conversation with her father instead of just talking to her voicemail. She was in the middle of her "conversation" when two agents approached the desk wearing black suits. They took out their badges and the security guard was flabbergasted that these guys were Homeland Security too. Elle quickly set the phone down, muttered her thanks to the security guard, and practically ran out of the building. She made sure to text both Dean and Sam to get the hell out of there on her way out.

Poughkeepsie. Five-oh.

Once she was outside, Elle ran as fast as she possibly could to the Impala. She knew Sam and Dean weren't far behind her—but they were still behind her nonetheless. Thankfully, Dean had thought far enough ahead to leave the keys in the ignition. Despite how much she hated driving; Elle knew she needed to be the getaway driver. She hoped into the driver's seat and put the car into drive. She drove closer to the warehouse where she spotted Sam and Dean trapped inside the gate that had just closed. Shit. Not good. But she knew that both of her brothers could climb it—just hopefully they were fast enough before security found them. Sam and Dean got over the fence without being noticed and Elle drove them away from the warehouse. Dean sat in the passenger's seat and Sam in the backseat with all her junk. Elle asked where she should drive to and Dean told her to take them to Jerry's office—he and Sam were going to explain what they had seen on the way there. Apparently, Dean's homemade EMF meter lit up like a Christmas tree and they had a sample of this yellow stuff in their possession for Jerry to examine. After Jerry examined the stuff he deduced that it was sulfur. Jerry had to leave to yell at an employee; but Elle kept her mouth shut until she was alone with her brothers.

"Sulfur?" This isn't good," Elle groaned.

"It's never exactly good," Dean said sarcastically.

"But sulfur most likely means—"

"Demonic possession," Sam finished for her.

"It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch," Dean mused.

"If the guy was possessed, it's definitely possible."

"This goes beyond the typical movie stuff though," Elle started.

"You mean the floating over a bed or barfing up pea soup?" Dean interrupted.

"Yeah—that. I mean we've got to be dealing with something badass enough to possess a person to take down an airplane."

"Have either of you ever heard of something like this before?" Sam asked.

Both Elle and Dean shook their heads no. This meant that they needed to do some research on their own. Sam and Dean walked out of the office, while Elle scribbled a note to Jerry letting him know that they would be in touch. When they finally found a motel—there wasn't even the usual fight for the bed claim. Instead, they got right to work on researching everything they possible could. They were in research mode for hours. They figured if they took turns with one of them sleeping at a time they could cover more ground instead of having them all take a break and sleep at once. It had been Elle's turn to sleep when Sam stumbled upon a theory. Sam threw a book at her, startling her and waking her up. She was still half asleep as Sam began to explain his theory—how every religion has some sort of concept of demons and demonic possession. Elle yawned at that point because for the hours they had spent researching, they hadn't found a single one that described something like what they were dealing with—but apparently Sam found something. According to Sam, the Japanese believe that certain demons were behind certain disasters man-made and natural. One caused earthquakes. One caused disease. The list went on. But causing plane crashes? It would have had to evolve over time—which was what Dean guessed. In a way, it was the only thing that made any sense. But Elle wasn't sure that she wanted to mess with an old demon. Even Dean wasn't so sure.

"This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't' want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here."

"Yeah, man. Me too," Sam added.

"Me three," Elle sighed—despite how much she knew the man wouldn't want to see her—he would know better than anyone what to do in this situation.

Dean's phone began to ring and he answered it. He was talking to Jerry—and it didn't sound good. When Dean finally hung up the phone, he sighed and looked to his siblings.

"Another one?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. Let's go," Dean said slowly standing up.

"Where are we going?" Elle asked slipping a t-shirt on over her tank top.

"Nazareth."

"Like Jesus Nazareth?"

"No, there's one just down the road."

"Huh—ironic."

The Impala headed down the road west to Nazareth. As they drew closer to the town, the black smoke became more and more visible. Dean pulled the car behind a cop car before he pulled the Homeland Security badges out of the glove compartment. He made sure that Elle had her camera so that she could take some pictures for their personal use because it would be years before they saw anything released. While Sam and Dean handled talking with the other officers and taking samples, Elle took pictures of the scene. According to Sam and Dean—while this plane was much smaller, the debris and what looked like sulfur residue were almost exactly like the other plane. Sam's theory seemed to be holding up, which none of the Winchester siblings were excited about. When they got back to Jerry he confirmed their suspicions of sulfur residue found on the aircraft. Elle had been looking at the reports when something clicked. 40. That number had not only occurred on their current cases, but in at least six crashes that she had researched earlier.

"Guys, I think I got something," Elle said.

"What?" Sam and Dean asked simultaneously.

"Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into his flight."

"And?" Dean asked.

"So did flight 2485."

"Forty minutes—that would make sense," Sam said.

"Forty minutes? What does that mean?" Jerry questioned. Elle had almost forgotten that he was still with them.

"It's biblical numerology. You know Noah's ark, it rained for forty days," Dean started.

"The Israelites wandered in the desert for forty years—killing off all those who had been freed from Egyptian slavery before they were allowed to enter the Promised Land. Well, all but Joshua and Caleb," Elle added.

"Exactly—the number means death."

"And if you compare it to these reports—"

Elle pulled out the manila files from her research out of her bag. She put them on the table as Sam snatched them and quickly rifled through them as Dean failed to look over his shoulder. A few moments later, Sam set the files down and shook his head.

"These go back a decade. Six crashes that all went down exactly forty minutes in," Sam commented.

"Any survivors?" Dean asked.

"No," Elle answered for him.

"Well—not until now at least. Not until flight 2485. Remember what the voice on the cockpit recording said?" Sam finished.

"No survivors," Dean deduced. "This means that it's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job."

"So Final Destination," Elle groaned.

"What's that?" Dean questioned.

"You don't wanna know man," Sam chuckled. "But we gotta go, Jerry. We'll let you know if we find out anything more."

Dean drove the Impala as Sam and Elle did something that Elle hated doing—making phone calls. They had to call the survivors and make sure that none of them were planning on flying any time soon. Just in case an intervention was needed, Dean was speeding toward the nearest airport. Elle hated making awkward phone calls—if she was awkward in person—she was even more awkward and overly polite on the phone. Not to mention that Dean would make fun of her after every phone call she finished. Elle just hung up with Blaine Sanderson—who might never fly again—when she dialed the number for Amanda Walker. A woman answered—but it wasn't Amanda. It was her sister Karen. Apparently, Amanda was already at the airport for her flight from Indianapolis that left at eight pm. It was also the woman's first night back on the job. Elle hung up the phone.

"Shit!" Elle shouted.

"What?" Dean questioned.

"Amanda Walker's plane leaves from Indianapolis at eight."

"That sounds like just our luck."

"Guys that's a five hour drive, even with Dean behind the wheel—" Sam started.

"So what, we don't try?" Elle asked.

"I didn't say that. Try calling her cellphone again."

"I've already left like three messages. It's an airport. She probably has it turned off."

"God, we're never gonna make it."

"We'll make it if Baby and I have anything to say about it," Dean said as he pressed his foot harder against the gas pedal, causing them to speed more than they already were.

Somehow—by some stroke of luck—they made it to the Indianapolis airport by 7:10. Dean pulled a half-donut to get into a parking spot, which didn't sit well with Elle's stomach and the tacos she had eaten earlier. She felt sick the second Dean parked the Impala. As she got out of the car, she vomited on the asphalt and barely had time to spit out the bad taste before Dean yanked her by the arm as they ran toward the airport. Her head hurt as they ran. She really hoped they found Amanda soon—because she was going to be virtually useless trying to get over her motion sickness. They ran into the airport and found the signs that told when the planes were leaving from and what gate. They found Amanda's flight which thankfully didn't board for thirty minutes. Dean then suggested that they find a courtesy phone to call for Amanda. Dean picked up the phone.

"Hi. Gate thirteen," Dean said before waiting a moment. "I'm trying to contact Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight—uh—flight 4-2-4."

After a few seconds Amanda's name was paged over the intercom. Eventually, Amanda called Dean back. Dean played it off as he was a doctor and Amanda's sister Karen was there—saying she had been in a car crash. But the conversation must have gone south because Amanda didn't buy it. Elle could practically see Dean's brain scrambling—but then his tone changed. His back story completely changed—he seemed to be trying to persuade Amanda about some guy named Vince. Either way, Dean's plan hadn't worked. He angrily hung up the phone. Apparently, Amanda was still getting on that plane despite his attempt to persuade her otherwise.

"Damn it! So close!" Dean shouted.

"Now what?" Elle groaned, still feeling a little woozy.

"All right, it's time for plan B. We're getting on that plane," Sam responded.

"Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second," Dean began.

"Yeah—hold on a second," Elle repeated.

"Guys—that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board and if we're right that plane is gonna crash," Sam stated.

"We know," Dean hissed.

"Okay. So we're getting on the plane. We need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You two get whatever you can out of the car. Whatever will make it through security. Let's meet back here in five minutes."

Neither Elle nor Dean moved.

"Are you two okay?" Sam asked.

"Nope," Elle said leaning against her knees.

"Not really," Dean added.

"What? What's wrong?" Sam questioned.

"I feel like I'm gonna barf—and if I get on that plane I'm gonna barf for sure," Elle groaned.

"There's medicine for that—what about you?"

"Well—you see—funny story really—I—uh—I kind of have this problem with—uh" Dean stammered.

"Flying?" Sam finished in a chuckled.

"It's never really been an issue until now."

"You've got to be joking, right?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"He's not joking," Elle murmured.

"Why else do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?"

"It's true." Elle ran to the garbage can and tossed her cookies once more. Normally, she didn't get motion sickness this bad—it was probably because she was also stressed out. Stress was stupid.

"Looks like I'm doing this one on my own then," Sam suggested.

"I don't think so. The plane's gonna crash."

"There really isn't a third option—unless one of stays and one of us takes pukey. So, we all go—or I go by myself."

"Come on! Really? Man—"

"Just make sure that we get the Dramamine before we leave otherwise there might be the Exorcist barfing scene," Elle groaned from the trashcan.

Elle sat near the trashcan and barfed once more while Sam bought the tickets and Dean grabbed their duffel bags. They walked to the security checkpoint and passed through. Dean made a comment about feeling naked without his gun and knife hidden. Sam was trying to hurry them through and Elle was just trying to hold out until she finally had her medicine. But much to her dismay, Elle was chosen for a random search. She groaned as she was taken aside and patted down by a woman security guard. She was somewhat pissed. If they were gonna check anyone—it should have been Dean—but no. The hold-up had taken so long that it was time for them to board. There was no time to stop at a kiosk to get some Dramamine. Even though she felt somewhat normal as they stood in line to board, Elle had a feeling the vomiting sensation would be back once they took off. Sam suggested that she try drinking water—so he asked the flight attendant, who was not Amanda, right as they boarded the plane if they could have a bottle of water. The flight attendant graciously handed over the water as Sam led them down the aisle to their seats. Dean seemed almost paranoid as he looked down the plane which made Elle chuckle for a moment.

What a band of misfits they were—someone scared to fly, someone with motion sickness, and poor Sam. Elle's ticket said she was supposed to have the window seat, but she knew that being next to the window and seeing the world moving outside was bound to make her puke. Sam motioned for Dean to slide in, but Dean instantly stiffened and shook his head no. The younger Winchester brother muttered something as he slid into the seat by the window—followed by Elle and then Dean. Elle slowly sipped her water and tightly closed her eyes, trying to block out anything that might possibly make her sick. She turned her head and looked to Dean—who was anxiously reading the safety card as the flight attendants did one final sweep before departure.

"Guys, just try to relax," Sam chuckled.

"How about your just try to shut your pie hole," Dean grumbled.

"I'll second that," Elle muttered, trying to embrace herself for the inevitable.

The plane began to take off. Elle tried to bury her in her hands which rested on her knees. She tried to shut out the outside world and focus. She couldn't remember a single time in her life feeling this much motion sickness before. Although she had a suspicion that the tacos she had might have given her a food poisoning too. Either way, she knew the boys were never going to let her forget this. Since she had always been with Dean, she had never had a reason to fly before. Speaking of Dean, his knuckles where white from how tightly he was gripping the armrests. He practically jumped at every noise and movement change the plane made. Sam couldn't help but smirk. If Elle wasn't feeling to motion sick right now, she would have joined Sam. There was a burning sensation in her throat. She quickly reached for the barf bag in the seat back pocket—but there wasn't one in hers. She then leaned over for Dean's and her vomit barely made it in the bag. She looked up to see Dean's eyes wide in disgust.

"I knew I shouldn't have eaten those tacos," Elle groaned.

"Just keep that thing away from me," Dean said closing his eyes.

Elle rolled her eyes at her brother before she shoved her used barf bag in his seatback pocket. Dean just shook his head before he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Elle sipped on a little bit of water—feeling a little better. Maybe she just needed to get it out in order to feel better. Not seeing the flight attendant watching her, Elle pulled back the seatback tray so that she could rest on it. Sam poked her telling her that she wasn't supposed to be doing that—but she ignored him. Right now she just wanted to curl up in a ball and fall asleep. Stupid tacos. Stupid donuts. Stupid demon. Sam made fun of Dean for humming Metallica; but Dean claimed it was helping him stay calm. And as if the situation wasn't bad enough—Sam put things in perspective. They had exactly thirty-two minutes to find the thing and perform an exorcism. Easy enough, right?

"Now who is it possessing?" Sam asked.

"I would say Elle since we're barely ten minutes in and she barfed—" Dean started.

"But we need to be serious—one step at a time."

"The first step usually is to make fun of Elle."

"Thanks," Elle groaned sarcastically as Sam gave Dean a disappointed look.

"But I suppose it's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress."

"Amanda?" Elle asked.

"That would make sense. It's her first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty mess up," Sam responded.

Dean nodded his head and slightly relaxed enough to motion for the nearest flight attendant to come near them.

"Excuse me, are you Amanda?" Dean asked.

"No, I'm not."

"Oh my mistake."

"Mm-hm."

"Can you—uh—dispose of this." Dean cringed as he picked up Elle's barf bag with two fingers.

"Are you not feeling well, hon?"

"No—I'm fine. It's actually my—uh—sister, pukey, over here."

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," the woman said, not buying Dean's explanation. "I'll bring you a ginger ale for that tummy."

The woman walked away—without the barf bag. Dean frowned as he stuck the bag in the seatback in front of Elle before he turned to glare at her. But Elle's face was covered up by her arms, so she didn't see her oldest brother. Dean then looked to the back of the plane before he turned to facing forward again, tightly grasping the seat.

"All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there—so I'll go talk to her, and uh—get a read on her mental state," Dean said.

"What if she's already possessed?" Sam asked.

"There's ways to test that."

Dean pulled a Virgin Mary shaped water bottle out of his bag.

"I brought holy water."

"How the hell did you get that through security?" Elle questioned.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"No," Sam said as he snatched the holy water out of Dean's hands, to which Dean responded with a frown. "I think we can go more subtle. If she's possessed, she'll flinch at the name of God."

"Oh," Dean said as he unclicked his seatbelt. "Nice."

Dean stood up to go.

"Hey," Sam whispered.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Say it in Latin."

"I know," Dean said as he left again.

"Okay," Sam said before he started when Dean was already a couple of rows back. "Hey!"

"What?" Dean hissed with a glare to Sam.

"Someone's grouchy," Elle muttered.

"Uh—in Latin, it's 'Christo,'" Sam said.

"Dude, I know! I'm not an idiot! And Pukey, don't take my ginger ale."

Elle lifted her head and looked at Sam who was looking out the window as Dean walked away. She gently smacked Sam's arm so that he turned to look at her.

"You need my barf bag?" Sam asked.

"Funny, but no," Elle said rolling her eyes. Sam gave her a then what do you want look. "What kind of Latin do they teach at Stanford?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked.

"It's Christus—not Christo. I'm pretty sure Christo is Greek—or something."

"And where exactly did you learn Latin?"

"The Internet."

"Let me guess, Wikipedia? Very credible. Besides, Christo's worked before."

"When?"

"Not really important right now."

"Really? That's the excuse you're gonna use? Did you go hunting when you were at Stanford?"

"I've told that you multiple times that I wanted out."

"But saying that you wanted out is a lot different than actually being out."

"Does it really look like I was out hunting like you and Dean?"

"You're trying to turn the conversation back to Dean and I and off you. I may not have a college education, Sam, but I'm not stupid."

"Can we stay focused please?" Sam asked. "We can talk about this other thing later."

"If we survive you mean," Elle muttered.

Elle pushed her seat backward and rested her eyes. Of course it could potentially be the end of her life—and she was spending it arguing with Sam. Typical Winchester fashion—arguing until the point of death. Dean slouched back into his seat just as the other flight attendant brought him his ginger ale. He jokingly asked if there was anything a bit stronger, but the woman just smiled. He waited a moment before she was gone and then he leaned in closer to Elle for a private conversation with his siblings as he downed the soda which he wished were beer.

"All right, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet."

"You said Christo?" Sam asked.

"Yeah."

"And?"

"There's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her."

"Maybe it didn't work," Elle said glaring at Sam.

"No, it worked just fine," Sam retorted. "So that means if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere."

"Except for us because Christo doesn't make us flinch," Elle said with a roll of her eyes.

The plane suddenly began to shake. Dean tightly gripped the armrests again, leaning his head back—trying to breathe slowly. Elle shut her eyes tightly and covered her mouth with her hands—just in case. Sam was the only one who seemed to take it for what it was—turbulence. The plane stopped shaking and Dean and Elle slowly went back to normal. Dean muttered something and Sam started treating him like a kid—which annoyed the hell out of Dean.

"Quit treating me like I'm friggin' four," Dean hissed.

"You need to calm down," Sam countered.

"Well, I'm sorry—I can't."

"Yes, you can. You have to. If you're panicked dude, you're wide open to demonic possession. So you need to calm yourself down right now."

"What demon would be stupid enough to possess Dean?" Elle scoffed.

"Hey, I've got plenty of fine qualities that a demon would like," Dean countered.

"Like what?"

"For starters—"

"Guys, this isn't the time for this. Life or death situation on our hands. We need to focus," Sam groaned.

"Fine," Elle and Dean muttered together.

"Good, glad we all agree on something—" Sam started.

"Probably for the last time in our lives," Dean added.

'Really?"

"Sorry—continue."

"Now I found this exorcism in here that I think is gonna work. The Rituale Romanum."

"Sounds Latin-y. Sure it's legit Latin?" Elle asked.

"I'm going to ignore that. Now, there's two parts to it. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest which actually makes if more powerful."

"More powerful?" Dean asked.

"Yeah."

"And how?"

"Well—it doesn't need to possess someone anymore. It can just wreak havoc on its own."

"And how is that a good thing?" Elle asked.

"Yeah—I'm also failing to see how that's a good thing," Dean said.

"Because the second part sends the bastard straight back to hell once and for all," Sam finished.

"Why does everything have to be so damn complicated? Why can't you just say "to hell with you" and then poof, it's done?" Elle groaned.

"Do you really want me to answer that question?"

"It was rhetorical you ass."

"Right then—first things first, we got to find it," Dean said. "Luckily this made it through security."

Dean pulled out his EMF meter out of his bag and exhaled. He was still pretty terrified to be on the plane—that much was obvious, but keeping his mind occupied on other things like work was just the distraction he needed.

"Let's find this son-of-a-bitch."

"Don't forget, it could very well be a daughter-of—"Elle started.

"It's an expression, Elle. You don't have to correct me every damn time."

"Well, read this expression."

Elle flipped Dean the bird as he stood up. He shoved her hand down onto her tray table before he made his way to the back of the plane with his Walkman turned EMF meter. Elle sat there, sipping her water bottle as Sam watched Dean move up the aisle. Sam pushed her tray table up before he crawled over her and into the aisle. Elle stayed seated as she watched Sam walk up to Dean and clap him on the shoulder, scaring the crap out of him that he jumped. Dean made a motion that Elle should come over by them with his head. She groaned before she made her way up the aisle slowly, careful not to look out any of the windows which would make her sick.

"Did you guys figure it out?" Elle asked as she squeezed between Sam and Dean.

"Does it look like we figured it out?" Dean hissed.

"Then what do you need me for?"

"Because we only have fifteen minutes. We need to look over everyone again and find out who we missed," Sam responded.

"Maybe the thing just isn't on the plane?" Dean asked hopefully.

"You really believe that?"

"I will if you will."

"Since when have you been the optimistic one?" Elle questioned.

"Beats the alternative of thinking I'm going to die on this friggin plane."

Dean stopped for a moment as he looked down as his EMF meter spiked. Dean then looked to the front galley of the plane where the copilot came out of the bathroom and greeted a flight attendant before moving to head back into the cockpit.

"I take that back."

"Dean, what?" Elle asked.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Christo," Dean whispered.

"It's Christus," Elle muttered.

"I don't think he really cares which one we use."

Dean looked to Sam and Elle, slowly motioning to the copilot with his head. The copilot's eyes went black—full on black. Shit. Definitely possessed. Of course it would be one of the guys that flies the freaking plane that would get possessed. But what sort of chink did the copilot have? Probably some serious addiction—like gambling would be Elle's guess. But really? Could the situation get any worse? Less than fifteen minutes to take down a copilot. Death was almost surely imminent. The copilot went into the cockpit and locked the door before the flight attendant moved to where the Winchesters were standing.

"Excuse me, federal safety regulations—" the flight attendant began.

"Yeah—not to congregate in the front of the aircraft," Elle finished.

"Don't remember them saying anything about the back," Dean responded.

The oldest Winchester pushed his baby sister toward the back of the plane despite her pleas just to sit down. No, all hands were needed on deck if they were going to get this demon situation fixed in under fifteen minutes. Sam even seemed to be dragging his feet—because Dean wanted to include Amanda in all this. He figured if anyone was gonna help them on this flight, it was going to be her.

"She's not gonna believe this," Sam argued.

"Twelve minutes, dude," Dean responded.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Elle muttered as her stomach lurched.

"Not until the demon's been exorcised."

"But if she fakes being sick—like you did to Dean earlier—it will help get us Amanda's attention," Sam said.

"It's not going to be 100% fake," Elle groaned.

Elle stopped a few feet shy of the back galley, doubled over and holding her stomach. Amanda instantly rushed to her aid and guided her to the back of the aircraft, helping her sit in the seat that was usually reserved for flight attendants during the descent. Elle closed her eyes as Amanda got down so that she was eye level with the young woman who seemed in distress.

"Are you going to be all right ma'am?" Amanda asked.

"Stupid tacos," Elle muttered.

"Just give her a barf bag and she'll be all right," Dean responded.

"I'm sorry that the flight's so bumpy."

"Actually, that's kind of what we need to talk to you about," Sam responded.

Sam looked around before he shut the curtain to the back galley. An old woman tried to come back to use the restroom, but Dean made a comment to the woman that she might not want to use the one in the back before he pointed to Elle. The older woman nodded knowingly. Then they were alone. Amanda looked around at the Winchesters: one about to hurl, one terrified out of his mind, one with a determined look—not the group one exactly wants to be stuck with. Despite feeling uncomfortable with the situation, Amanda continued with the concerned flight attendant act and a smile

"Um—what exactly can I do for you?" Amanda asked.

"All right this is—well, it's gonna sound nuts. But we don't really have time for the whole "the truth is out there' speech right now," Dean said.

"We really need you to just hear us—er—them, out," Elle said.

"Look, we know you were on flight 2485," Sam continued.

The smile that had been Amanda's face had vanished. She moved to take a step toward the curtain but Sam intercepted her. She moved to take a step toward the phone but Dean intercepted her. The blonde woman then took a step back so that she was pressed against the lavatory door—but after looking at Elle, she realized that probably wasn't the best place to be either. She centered herself between the three Winchesters.

"Who are you guys?" Amanda questioned.

"We just want to help," Elle responded.

"How is trapping me, helping me? You could be arrested when we land for this."

"We're just asking you to listen. Then decide for yourself."

"Decide what?"

"We've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know that something brought the plane down and there was no way in hell that it was mechanical failure," Sam said.

"What does that have to do with me right now?" Amanda questioned.

"Right now—we need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now," Dean answered.

"I did what you asked and I listened. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm very busy. I have to get back to—"

Amanda tried to slide past Dean, but he stopped her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? Just let me finish," Dean said calmly.

"What else could you possibly have to tell me?" Amanda questioned, getting nearer to the brink of tears.

"The pilot from flight 2485—Chuck Lambert, is dead," Elle said before exhaling deeply and focusing on her breathing once more.

"Wait. What? Chuck is dead?"

"Yeah—he died in a plane crash. Coincidence? I don't think so. I don't believe in coincidences. Two plane crashes in two months—with the same guy. Doesn't that strike you as strange?" Dean continued.

"I—I don't know," Amanda fumbled to find appropriate words to voice what she was feeling.

"Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight too," Sam said.

"Amanda, you have to believe us," Dean begged.

"We don't have much time—" Sam started.

"Will you two stop being pathetic?" Elle groaned. "If she didn't believe you even a tiny bit, she would have already screamed or drawn attention to herself by now. She's still here."

"Oh," Sam and Dean muttered before looking to Amanda.

"On—on 2485, there was this man. He—he had these eyes," Amanda started.

"Yes, that's exactly what we're talking about," Sam insisted.

"I—I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?"

"The copilot, we need you to bring him back here," Dean responded.

"Why? What does he have to do with anything?"

"Really don't have time to explain. We just need to uh—talk—to him, okay?"

In frustration, Amanda ran her fingers through her hair, which was pulled back, in frustration. You could tell that Amanda was really wrestling with doing the right thing. But it was also obvious that deep down, Amanda did know that something was wrong with this flight. Maybe she was putting two and two together about the copilot. Amanda then turned toward Dean.

"And how exactly am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot. It's regulation that—" Amanda began.

"Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever it takes to get him out of that cockpit," Sam responded first.

"Tell him that you have a deathly ill passenger back here," Dean said pointing to Elle.

"I'm not deathly ill, Elle moaned. "I just ate some bad tacos."

"Considering Sam and I are fine, I'm pretty sure you're gonna die."

"Thanks, I appreciate the sympathy. Not that it makes a difference, but I think death by tacos is more awesome than a plane crash—but really, I'm not that sick."

"Well, then it's time to start acting it."

"You guys do realized that I could lose my job if you—" Amanda interrupted.

"You're gonna lose a lot more if you don't help us out," Dean said.

"He means dying," Elle said bluntly.

"Yeah, I got that," Amanda whispered. "Fine, I'll do it."

Amanda sighed, her confusion quite obvious but she left the back galley and headed for the cockpit anyway. Elle pushed herself through her dizziness. Her brother's needed her to do this. Besides, she couldn't let something as stupid as tacos be the reason she let a demon get away with murder. The Winchesters dug through Dean's bag. Sam pulled out the bottle of holy water that somehow made it through security. Dean pulled out their father's journal and Elle took hold of a salt container.

"What'd you do sweet talk security?" Elle asked Dean as she found some rock salt shotgun rounds.

"Something like that," Dean muttered.

"They're almost back here, everyone ready," Sam said as he switched Dean for the journal and handed his older brother the holy water.

The waited a few seconds and then the copilot stepped behind the curtain. Elle held the salt behind her back as the copilot looked to her first.

"Yeah, what's the problem?" the man asked.

"You are, you son-of-a-bitch," Dean said as he punched the man.

Amanda squealed as Dean's fist met the copilot's face, knocking the fully-grown man to the floor. Dean then pinned the man down and put duct tape over his mouth. The man was trying to get away; but Dean wasn't budging an inch. Sam stood there flipping through the pages, Elle poured salt in front of the emergency doors—to at least to attempt to slow the demon down and keep him away from the emergency exit like flight 2485. If only she could sprint to the cockpit door without making a big scene—to stop him from getting at the controls; but Elle was distracted by Amanda, who looked a bit frustrated. Elle tried to make a line of salt in front of the curtain but the Amanda was in her way, clearly not impressed nor willing to budge.

"You said you were just gonna talk to him," Amanda hissed.

"We are gonna talk to him," Dean responded.

Dean uncapped the holy water with his teeth before he splashed some on the man's skin. Elle had to turn away for a moment as the man's skin sizzled. She tried not to think of the actual human being the demon was occupying; but part of her wondered if this hurt the guy he was possessing. Could he feel everything that was being done to him? But Amanda squealed again and asked what was wrong with the man.

"Look, we need you calm," Sam said. "We need you calm outside the curtain."

"I—I don't understand—" Amanda started.

"Just don't let anybody in, okay?" Elle stood up, grasping Amanda's arm and making eye contact with her. "Can you do that, Amanda? Please?"

"Yeah—okay."

"And whatever you do, don't break this salt line."

Amanda nodded her head and walked back into the cabin of the plane. Elle salted in front of the curtain, hoping that they could at least keep the demon contained for a bit. Elle turned to see Dean struggling to keep the demon pinned down. Dean shouted for Sam to hurry up because he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep the guy pinned. Sam then began speaking the words to the exorcism. He was only a few words win when the demon managed to break free of Dean's grasp. The demon hit the holy water out of Dean's hands before he pushed him, then pushed Sam, and lastly he slapped Elle across the face sending her flying into the curtain. She slid under the curtain, breaking the salt line she had just made. Amanda looked down at her with eyes wide. Elle told the woman that everything was going peachy. Elle sat up, but she must have done so too fast because he head was spinning as she saw Dean on top of the demon once more and Sam started speaking again. Dean motioned for Elle to help him hold the thing down, but she was too slow moving that Dean got knocked off again. This time he, broke the salt line in front of the emergency exit. Looked like Elle's salt lines had been a complete waste of time. The demon ripped the tape from his mouth before he reached out and grabbed Sam by the collar.

"I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!" The demon hissed.

Elle could see the shock in Sam's face and without thinking twice about it, Elle lunged at the demon. She pushed Sam out of its grasp and pinned the thing down by straddling it. Even though she didn't weigh enough to keep the thing down permanently, she did manage to knock some of his wind out which helped her keep him pinned long enough for Sam to finish part one of the exorcism. Sam said his last words the copilot kicked John Winchester's journal out of his hands. But he was too late, Sam had finished the exorcism and the demon was being ousted from his human host. But the relief was only for a split second as the demon which now looked like black smoke disappeared into a vent.

"Where'd it go?" Sam asked as Elle could only point to the vent.

"Shit. It's in the plane. We gotta hurry this up, Sammy," Dean grunted.

Sam pulled the journal back into the back galley. He had just opened it to the page he needed when the plane suddenly began to nose dive. The book flew out of Sam's hands and landed on the unconscious pilot's chest right in front of Elle. Sam had been thrown into the lavatory when the plane began to dive. With his big frame, he was struggling to get up and Dean was splayed against the emergency door screaming. Elle flipped a few pages before she found the page Sam had shown them earlier. She quickly found the spot where Sam left off before she began to finish off the exorcism. The plane began to shake, oxygen masks were popping down left and right, screaming erupted—but Elle finished the damn thing. There was a final jolt before the plane began to level out.

Elle began to breathe heavily, closing her eyes and clutching her stomach. But all of it was too much for her stomach to handle—literally. She puked all over the copilot. More like projectile vomited as Dean would recall later on—almost like the scene from the Exorcist. Except for the fact that the one possessed wasn't doing the puking. Dean even claimed that it was the same color as the movie. Elle's hands quickly moved to her mouth as her eyes widened.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry," Elle muttered. "If it's any consolation, I feel a little better now."

"I'm sure that's not going to make him feel any better," Sam said shaking his head.

She awkwardly tried to wipe the foul smelling stuff from the man's face with her sleeve pulled over her hand without looking at him. Amanda opened up the curtain and helped Elle off the copilot and got some towels to clean the man up. The Winchesters all breathed a sigh of relief before they gathered their things and went back to their seats. Surprisingly, Elle didn't feel sick anymore. She had probably puked everything out that she possibly could. She then pulled out her sketchbook and found a blank page when Sam tapped her on the shoulder.

"Your Latin wasn't half bad," Sam said with a smile.

"Way to insult me, Internet Latin saved our asses, thank you very much," Elle said.

"Guys, we almost died back there. Can we not argue for—oh I don't know—the rest of this flight?" Dean groaned.

"Don't count on it."

Elle smirked at her oldest brother before he shook his head and leaned his seat back and attempted to go to sleep. When they disembarked the plane Paramedics, FBI agents, FAA agents, and probably the entire circus was waiting for them. Apparently all the trouble in the air wasn't exactly a secret. Elle cringed when she saw the copilot who was in a wheel chair, wrapped in a blanket, covered in dried vomit, being questioned by an FAA agent. An FBI agent was questioning Amanda when she mouthed the Winchesters as "thank you." But the Winchesters knew better than to stick around to answer questions. They were never going to believe what really happened anyway. Dean nodded his head toward the exit and said that they should get out of there. Elle sighed and walked between her brothers, wrapping an arm around each one of them, keeping them close to her because no matter how much they drove her crazy—these two lugs were the most important things in her life. Elle rested her head against Sam, when he stopped.

"Guys, it knew about Jessica," Sam said stopping.

"Sam these things, they read minds," Dean said. "They lie. All right? That's all it was."

"Besides, the most convincing lie is one that has truth in it, right?" Elle added.

"Yeah, you guys are probably right," Sam said.

Neither Dean nor Elle were completely convinced by Sam's words; but for once, they were willing just to take him at his word. They were in no way shape or form prepared to deal with the truth. They were exhausted; but Dean still drove them back—first to get the Impala-then to Jerry to let him know that the job was finished. Let him know that things might go back to normal. Jerry was very appreciative when the Winchesters walked in with the good news.

"Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed," Jerry started as he shook each of their hands. First Sam's, then Dean's, and last Elle's. "Your dad's gonna be real proud."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Elle muttered.

"Your daddy might not show it, Elle—but a father always has a special place in his heart for his daughter."

"Yeah—sure."

She didn't buy what he was saying. If and only if John Winchester had a place in his heart for Elle—it was probably a black spot. From years of experience, Elle knew that her father was incapable of loving her. She just wanted to know why—so that she could change things. But first, that would require finding the man. Dean then asked Jerry how he had gotten his cellphone number—which made sense because Dean had only had the number for like six months. Then there was the kicker: Jerry said that John Winchester had given it to them. Sam, Elle, and Dean looked to each other. Elle could feel her heart sink. He would get ahold of a guy they helped once but not his own flesh and blood?

"When did you talk to him?" Dean asked—his voice somewhat strained.

"I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call," Jerry responded, not thinking much of it. "Thanks again!"

They were just outside of the Impala when Dean pulled out his phone.

"This doesn't make any sense man. I've called Dad's number like fifty times," Sam said.

"We've all called him and never gotten through," Elle added.

" It's because it's been out of service."

Dean put the phone on speaker phone before he dialed the number for their father. Sure enough, just as Jerry had said, a message began to play.

This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help.

That son-of-a-bitch. Really? Elle roughly slammed the car door to the Impala shut. She folded her arms across her chest in anger. Not only had he not contacted them—but he made not even a mention of her—or Sam, only Dean. As if that wasn't proof enough. At this point, she was so pissed that she really wasn't sure that she even wanted to find her father. She might accidentally murder him instead of getting the answers and love she so longed for. Dean turned the music on and drove down the highway. The siblings remained quiet, not even a complaint about the music. Although they didn't say it, their thoughts were all on the same thing—Dad.


	6. Bloody Mary

Campbell Winchester sat in her usual spot in the Impala, the back seat. She had her sketchbook out and had been drawing for the last twenty minutes while Dean drove and Sam slept. With a sigh, she shoved her sketchbook back into her bag before her head fell upon the pillow she had stolen from some random motel a while back. Then to purposely annoy Dean, she began to click her tongue and make random noises. Dean could only handle five minutes of her annoyingness before he told her to make herself useful and clean up the mess she had in the backseat. Elle flicked the back of Dean's head before she ducked so that he couldn't elbow her. She looked at the floor below her feet. Dean did have a fair point about the mess she had in the back. It was as if her duffel bag had exploded—but in her defense, she had spilled hot chocolate all over herself and in her bag. She had been in desperate need of clothing without chocolate and she hadn't gotten around to picking up her mess yet. Elle pulled a pair of pants of the floor to fold when she found a pleasant surprise.

"Hey, I found $20," Elle said.

"Yeah—that's mine. I lost it," Dean responded.

"In my pants? Ew."

"Forget I even said anything."

Elle smirked at the fact that Dean was actually willing to back down to her in that situation. Then again—it was a fairly awkward situation. Elle just wished that they would get to Toledo soon so that they could stop at a Circle K and get some much needed caffeine, probably in the form of a fountain soda. She continued to pick her clothes up from the floor of the car. She reached under the seat and felt for anything that might have been left behind underneath. She felt something fuzzy and pulled it out. Elle couldn't help but smile at the worn stuffed Tigger stuffed animal that she had since she was eight years old. Sam had gotten it for that time she had been in the hospital when she got her appendix removed. Of course her dad hadn't seen a need to take her in to the emergency room—but Sam and Dean defied him and took her anyway. The stuffed Tigger had some sentimental value for her—seeing as it was actually quite old and he had lost his stripes because she had slept with him so often when she was younger. Elle became somewhat antsy as Dean passed by the sign for Toledo. Thankfully, Dean stopped at a Circle K and she practically ran out of the car, leaving Dean staring at the obituaries and Sam sleeping. After using the bathroom and buying a Dr. Pepper fountain soda she headed back to the Impala. She slurped her soda through the straw as she plopped back down into the car. Sam was now awake and he and Dean both avoided eye contact with each other and with her by looking out their windows. Something was off. That much she could tell.

"What'd I miss?"

"Sam's having nightmares," Dean said.

"Tell me something I don't know."

"See, Elle's not worried about me," Sam argued.

"I don't recall saying that. I just said that I already knew you were having nightmares. Dean and I have already talked about your nightmares with Jess in them."

"You guys don't have to talk about me like I'm five."

"Then maybe you should stop acting like you're five and tell us already," Dean said.

Elle slurped her soda loudly to which Dean responded with an annoyed glance sideways toward her. Sam shook his head in annoyance before he pointed toward Elle.

"And you say I'm acting five," Sam scoffed.

"You both act like you're five," Dean commented. "It's annoying."

"At least we've matured. I think we were four yesterday," Elle commented before slurping her soda again.

"Ha. Ha. Funny."

"I try. I try."

"Maybe you should try a little less."

"I would if I could."

Dean started the Impala before he drove away. They were on their way to the morgue to check out the corpse of a guy named Steven Shoemaker. Elle snatched the newspaper from Sam so that she could at least have some idea what they were looking for—before they actually got in there. There wasn't too much information given in the obituary which read: The Shoemaker family is sad to announce the sudden death of their beloved husband and father Steven Shoemaker. Steven was 46. A short service will be held on Wednesday—Elle put the newspaper down. There was absolutely nothing to go on in the obituary. How the hell Dean had come across this to be one of their cases was beyond her; but Dean's gut was usually pretty accurate when it came to these things. It seemed like Elle wasn't the only one who wasn't entirely sure about Dean's choice, because Sam questioned him to which Dean responded that they were just gonna check things out. If it turned out to be nothing, then he'd buy dinner; but if it ended up being a case, Sam was gonna have to buy dinner. Elle was fine either way because her money was safe.

When Dean stopped the car, Elle took a long and loud sip of her Dr. Pepper. This must have annoyed her oldest brother because he turned around and snatched the cup from her hand before he opened his door and threw it outside. Sam couldn't help but smile as he clapped his hands to show Dean his appreciation. Elle responded by flicking both her brothers behind their ears. She then slid out of the car and followed her brothers into the hospital. She wasn't too fond of hospitals. Granted, they quite frequently visited them—but it reminded her of when she had been a patient as a child. Her father had been so pissed at his three children when Elle had been released—but the doctor had said if they had come even an hour later, she very well could have died. That was probably also the first time Elle had truly realized her father's dismissive feelings toward her. Thankfully, she had the same support system: Sam and Dean. Elle tried her best to ignore the hospital surroundings as they walked toward room 144 which was labeled Morgue. This was probably the one place in a hospital that felt "normal" to her, which was probably incredibly odd. What kind of person did that make her? Probably some sort of freak—nothing new. Inside the morgue, two desks were visible. The empty desk had a nameplate that read Dr. D. Feiklowics. The other desk had a nameplate that simply read Morgue Technician. The guy sat at his desk, with his head practically buried in what he was reading. Dean cleared his throat causing the guy to look up slowly.

"Hey," the morgue tech greeted flatly.

"Hey," Dean responded.

"Can I help you?"

'Yeah—we're the, uh…med students."

"Really?" the guy said folding his arms across his chest defensively.

"Dr. Figlavitch didn't tell you?"

"Feiklowics," Elle coughed

"What she said. I'm terrible with names. Any who, we talked to him on the phone. We're from Ohio State and he's supposed to show up the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper."

"She doesn't look old enough to be a med student," the guy scoffed.

"It's because I'm short, isn't it? Us short people have feelings too you know," Elle retorted. "I can't help it that standing next to these two giants make me look like I'm four. But for just once in my life I'd like to get some respect. I mean—Grandma says that I'll appreciate looking young when I'm in my sixties, but right now it's just friggin annoying that-"

"Sorry miss, didn't mean to offend you. As far as your request goes—the doctor's at lunch. So a no go."

"Well, maybe you could make up for offending the lady by showing us the body anyway," Dean said.

"Sorry, I can't. Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him right there if you want."

"An hour? Ooh—that's not good. We gotta be back to Columbus by then. Important things happening."

"He's right. I've got to work tonight. You know—trying to put myself through school," Sam added.

"At least this one has a valid excuse. The other one's just looking to score with the girl two rows behind him in lecture," Elle said pointing between Sam and Dean.

"Really?" Dean growled at Elle before turning to the morgue tech. "Look man, this paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out—"

"Uh—look man—no," the guy responded.

Dean pretended to smile at the guy before he turned around toward his siblings with a pissed-off expression on his face. He made some comment about wanting to punch the guy in the face, at which Elle rolled her eyes because that was really going to get them what they wanted. Sam punched Dean in the arm before he side-stepped him and stood between Dean and the Morgue tech as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket. Sam then set some money down on the man's desk. The guy picked up the money and pocketed it before he told them to follow him. Dean glared at Sam and gave him a shove.

"Dude, I earned that money," Dean grumbled.

"You won it in a poker game," Sam commented.

"Yeah."

"Totally hard-earned," Elle scoffed. "Although I suppose it is one of his more honest ways of making money."

Sam shook his head before he followed the Morgue tech. Dean grabbed hold of Elle's arm and leaned his face down closer to her to talk to her.

"Give me that twenty you found earlier," Dean mumbled.

"First, explain to me how you put money in my pants," Elle said with a smirk, knowing full-well what she was implying.

"Damnit, Elle. Hand it over."

"When you answer the question, I'll consider it."

"I friggin hate you both."

"Don't lie—don't ignore your love for us."

"If that's what the kids are calling it these days—"

Elle didn't listen to him finish what he was saying, instead she walked away from him with a flip of her ponytail and followed the path Sam had taken behind the Morgue tech. Dean managed to push past her and beat her to where Sam was standing with an annoyed expression besides a slab. He shook his head at her—sure, blame her for a smaller stride because she had shorter legs—really fair. Sometimes genetics suck. The Morgue tech waited for Elle to stand beside the slab before he removed the white sheet. The sight of the man's face made Elle want to vomit—and it had nothing to do with bad tacos this time. The sight was truly that grueling. Of course the newspaper article said that the daughter had found him with his eyes bleeding—but this had to be worse than simple bleeding. They were liquefied. The Morgue tech chuckled at Elle's discomfort.

"You med students are always the same," the guy commented.

"She's a bit queasy," Dean retorted. "I've heard that happens, especially in the first trimester."

Elle narrowed her eyes at her brother. She was not pregnant unless she was a modern day Virgin Mary. But she knew that he was doing it to get back at her because she had basically called him a man-whore in front of the morgue tech. Speaking of the morgue tech, he was currently eyeing Elle awkwardly which pissed her off. So, she looked over her shoulder at the body without eyeballs and gagged. She had seen a lot of disgusting things in her life—but for some reason, this was what she considered the most disturbing.

"Was there any sign of a struggle?" Dean asked. "Maybe somebody did this to him."

"Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone," the morgue tech responded.

"What's the official cause of death?" Sam asked.

"Ah—well—Doc's not sure. He's thinking a massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm. Something burst up there, that's for sure."

"How can he not be sure? The man's a doctor for crying out loud," Elle commented.

"There was intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen. But don't get all worked-up over it, miss. Wouldn't want to hurt your unborn baby. Maybe you should just have a seat right over there."

"Go on, let the men take care of this," Dean said.

"I'm not an invalid," Elle hissed. "Nor am I pregnant."

"It's a touchy subject. She didn't want to go public right away."

"Seriously, Dean? You're just asking me to kick you in the balls and you know that I will do it too."

"Boston was not my fault."

"Yes, it was."

"No, it wasn't."

"Guys, can we get back to Mr. Shoemaker, please?" Sam interrupted an annoyed expression. "Like, what would cause something like that?"

"Me? Right. Well, capillaries can burst. We see a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims," the morgue tech responded.

"Ever see any exploding eyeballs?" Dean questioned—getting right back into interrogation mode.

"A first for me, but hey, I'm not the doctor."

"That's obvious," Elle muttered.

"Hey man, you think we could take a look at that police report?" Sam asked. "You know for our paper."

"Well, I'm not really supposed to show you that," the morgue tech said—with a tone that said otherwise.

"Give the man what he wants, Elle," Dean said slapping at Elle's arm with the back of his hand.

The morgue tech held his hand out toward Elle which she responded by grudgingly digging into her jeans pocket and pulling out the twenty dollar bill. She reluctantly handed it over to the man before elbowed Dean in the ribs. He kept his expression flat, but Elle could swear that she saw his eyes wince in pain. He was definitely asking for it when they were out of the public's watchful eye. The man gave them the police report for which they thanked him before they were on their way. Elle waited until they were outside before she began yelling at Dean as she walked behind him—attempting to keep up with him, but her short stride had its limitations.

"You ass! I can't believe that you told him I was pregnant!" Elle shouted.

"You're the one who likened me to a whore," Dean argued.

"You're the one who tossed my Dr. Pepper before I was finished!"

"And you're the one who can't drink through a straw the right way!"

"And whose fault is that?"

Sam was leaning against the Impala laughing.

"Shut up, Sam!" Elle and Dean shouted simultaneously.

"Hey, if you two actually listened to your conversations once in a while, you'd be laughing too," Sam said with his hands up defensively.

"No I wouldn't," Elle and Dean said together again before narrowing their eyes at each other. "Stop copying me!"

A flustered Elle, decided to follow-through on her threat. With one swift, rather high, motion, Elle kicked nailing Dean in the worst possible location. Dean squealed like a little girl before he collapsed on the asphalt near the Impala. Sam looked to his baby sister with his eyes wide as she folded her arms across her chest with a rather smug expression on her face.

"Elle, what the hell?" Sam shouted.

"What? He was asking for it. Besides, he didn't want kids anyway," Elle said with a shrug.

"But what exactly does kicking Dean in the balls accomplish?"

"Revenge? Besides, you can't tell me that seeing Dean like this isn't the slightest bit entertaining."

Sam failed to come up with an argument, instead he offered Elle a shake of his head with a slight smile on his face. Dean mumbled something as he was doubled-over along the lines of "I friggin hate you both." Sam moved to sit on the hood of the Impala while they waited for Dean to recover and Elle followed suit.

"So, I was kinda thinking that this one might not be one of ours. Maybe just some freak medical thing," Sam said.

Dean groaned leaning against the Impala. He said something that was barely understandable.

"What was that?" Sam asked.

"I'll give a loose interpretation," Elle said before making her voice lower. "How many times in Dad's career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death. Throw in a few son-of-a-bitches, something about pie, and I think that's about it."

"Pie?" Sam questioned.

"Sorry, I was channeling my inner Dean and as much as I hate to say this right now—he does have a point."

Dean muttered something that sounded like "thank you" before Sam sighed.

"All right, we'll go talk to the daughter."

"Up and at 'em," Elle said slapping Dean on the back.

"Can I get a friggin moment?" Dean hissed.

"Sure, but Sammy drives," Elle said pulling the keys out of Dean's pocket before she tossed them to her other brother.

Sam easily caught the keys before he walked around to the driver's side of the Impala. With a smirk on her face, Elle took Sam's normal spot in the front passenger seat, forcing Dean to relocate to the back seat. Dean plopped onto the backseat and lay on Elle's pillow. Elle turned around and looked at her brother as Sam put the Impala into drive.

"You drool on my pillow and I will hurt you again," Elle said.

"You come anywhere near my balls again and Tigger gets it," Dean said holding Tigger up by his neck.

Elle's eyes widened as she made an attempt to snatch Tigger back from Dean; but he only pulled him farther out of her reach. Even though it was a stuffed animal, the thing meant a lot to Elle. She was going to have to concede.

"Point taken."

Sam just shook his head at the exchange between his siblings as he drove them to the Shoemaker house. They had to park over a block away because there were many cars lining the streets. As they walked closer to the house, Elle realized that this was the wake from after the funeral because men and women were dressed in black. The Winchesters stood out like a sore thumb. Elle absently tied the belt on her blue plaid peacoat a little tighter, trying to cover up her white t-shirt with a Dr. Pepper dribble stain on it.

"You feel like we're underdressed?" Dean asked.

"A little," Elle responded sarcastically. "Maybe we should go change."

"Really? Quit being such a girl. Changing will take too long."

"I am a girl and I bet that I can change and be back here in under five minutes."

"Fine. Sammy, time her."

Sam took out his cellphone and set the stopwatch. Elle took off in a sprint away from the Shoemaker's house and toward the car; but when Sam and Dean weren't looking she bee-lined for the next door neighbor's house. She assumed that they were probably at the wake—giving her full access to the home because she didn't really have an appropriate dress. She quickly ran upstairs and changed into the woman of the house's black lace dress with three-quarter length sleeves. It hung loosely on her figure, but it was going to have to do. She stuck with her blue Converse sneakers because the woman's shoes were far too big for her.

"Sammy, time," Dean said.

"Don't call me Sammy—and she clocked in at five minutes two seconds," Sam said.

"Damnit!" Elle groaned.

"Pay up little sister," Dean said with a smirk.

"I already paid the morgue tech, so you get nothing but an apology for kicking you in the balls—sorry."

Elle awkwardly pulled at the sleeves that were a little bit too long.

"Where the hell d'you get that thing?" Dean questioned.

"Neighbors weren't home," Elle said matter-of-factly.

"So you steal some lady's clothes?" Sam scoffed.

"It was quicker than doing laundry. Besides, it's one dress. Dean does a lot worse with his online scams."

"We're talking about you—not me," Dean said.

"Well, I'm leaving this conversation and going to go find Donna and Lily Shoemaker."

Elle flipped her curly ponytail and walked away from her brothers and did something that she hated doing: mingling. She first ran into an old man, who was seemingly hitting on her. She quickly excused herself from the conversation. In the corner of her eye, she could see Sam and Dean standing out in their street clothes in the middle of a solemnly dressed crowd. She was about to walk to get an appetizer when a middle-aged woman stopped her to compliment her appearance.

"What a lovely dress. I have a dress just like that," a woman said.

"Well, it's not actually mine. I'm just borrowing it," Elle said. "And you are?"

"Staci White, I live next door."

"I'm so glad that you could be here to help out Donna and Lily children at a time like this. You by chance haven't seen them, have you?"

"Right over there."

"Thanks—for everything."

Thankfully, the woman didn't read too much into Elle's added meaning of thanks because to be honest, Elle had no intention of returning the dress. She would just hold onto it—despite the fact that it was technically stealing. Okay, not technically stealing—it was downright stealing, but that was something she could live with. Elle noticed Donna and Lily Shoemaker standing with two other teenage girls one she heard called Charlie and the other Jill. This should be easy enough if she could beat Sam and Dean to them. So, she quickly slunk by the other mourners and made her way to the group of girls.

"Donna, I am so sorry about you dad," Elle said.

"Thank you," Donna said. "I'm sorry have we met before?"

"Elle-Belle, where are your manners? Taking off without us," Dean said coming up behind her. "Introduce us to your friends."

"I just met them Uncle Dean," Elle retorted.

"He's your uncle?" one of the teenage girls asked in disbelief.

"Sadly."

"Oh my god, I wish my uncle was hot," the other teenage girl sighed.

"Ladies, ladies, now isn't the time. We just wish to pay our condolences," Dean said. "I'm Dean and this is—"

"I'm Sam. Dean and I worked with your dad," Sam added.

"You did?" Donna asked hesitantly.

"Yeah. This whole thing—I mean, a stroke—" Dean started.

"I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now," Charlie stated.

"Geez insensitive much, Uncle Dean?" Elle said with a roll of her eyes.

"Not, it's fine. It's fine," Donna said placing her hand on her little sister. "What did you want to know?"

"Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migranes?" Dean asked.

"No, none of that."

"That's because it wasn't a stroke," little Lily Shoemaker said stubbornly.

"Lily, don't say that."

"Does she know something more?" Elle asked.

"No and I'm so sorry, she's just upset."

"Liar! It happened because of me!" Lily shouted.

"Sweetie calm down."

"No! I can't! It's all my fault."

"Lily," Elle said softly kneeling so that she was eye level with the child. "We're sorry we upset you; but why would you say something like that. You're just a little girl."

"Right before he died, I said it," Lily said with her eyes filled with tears.

"Said what?" Sam asked crouching beside Elle.

"Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror."

Elle looked to Sam with a knowing look. The Bloody Mary thing was supposed to be a complete urban legend—with nothing substantial to back-up the claim. But living in the world that they did—anything was possible.

"She took his eyes, that's what she does," Lily continued.

"That's not why Dad died, Lily. This isn't your fault," Donna sighed.

"Your sister's right, sweetie," Elle said. "Besides, it couldn't have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?"

"No—I don't think so," Lily said hesitantly.

"See, I think your sister's pretty smart."

Lily smiled at Elle to which Elle responded by flashing a smile of her own.

"Donna, Elle mentioned something about needing to use a bathroom as we walked up," Dean interrupted the precious moment but Elle knew that this was just Dean's way of trying to get inside—so she just had to go with it.

"Dean, I wouldn't want to be a pest," Elle said.

"No, go ahead. There's one on the main level but if that one's in use there's another one upstairs second door on the left," Donna said. "Just stay out of the bathroom to the right."

"Thanks," Elle muttered feigning embarrassment.

Donna nodded at Elle as the Winchester girl slowly stood back up and walked away with Sam and Dean. Together, the Winchester siblings walked into the house. Elle was careful to nab a few appetizers before they went upstairs. With her hands full of cream puffs, Elle followed Sam as he opened the bathroom door open. Elle popped a cream puff in her mouth as Sam bent down to examine the dried blood on the tiling.

"This has gotta be the spot," Sam said with a sigh.

"Do you think if his eyes were liquefied that the blood was contained or it burst like a friggin bubble," Elle asked with her mouth full of pastry.

"And you always claim that I'm the disgusting one," Dean commented.

"I'm just curious, that's all," Elle added before downing another cream puff. "Besides, my eating habits I learned from you. Now, Sammy what are your thoughts?"

"On your eating habits?" Sam asked.

"No, what happened."

"You realize it's really hard to tell whether you're being sarcastic or not with food shoved in your mouth."

Elle rolled her eyes and swallowed hard.

"I mean about the Bloody Mary thing," Elle retorted.

"I'm not sure, I mean—the Bloody Mary legend—Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?" Sam asked.

"Not that I know of," Dean added.

"Me either, but of course he would tell Dean something before he would tell me," Elle said before popping her final cream puff into her mouth as a comfort food.

"You somehow manage to find out a lot of things Dad doesn't tell you though," Sam chuckled.

"Someone needs to keep her ears to herself," Dean playfully chastised.

"You do realize that if I don't listen to other people's conversations, that means I can't tell you the things I hear, right?" Elle asked Dean.

"I'll take that into consideration, but first things first. What do we even actually know about this whole Bloody Mary thing?"

"Well, everywhere all over the country, kids play the game," Sam said.

"A popular sleepover game for girls, or so I'm told, but I wouldn't really know—since I've never actually had a sleepover with anyone except for you two," Elle added. "But from my understanding, no one's died from it."

"I suppose one possibility is that everywhere it's just a friggin story, but here it's actually happening," Dean suggested.

"The place where the legend began?" Sam asked.

"I mean I suppose it's a possibility, but don't you think we'd have heard of something like this happening before here?" Elle asked.

"It was a theory, Elle," Sam groaned. "But I think all we can be sure of is that according to the legend, the person who says B—"

Sam stood up and walked toward the mirror, but stopped short of it before even getting the word bloody out. He closed the cabinet door and turned toward his siblings.

"The person who says—you know what—gets it. But here—" Sam continued.

"Shoemakers gets it instead, yeah," Dean finished with a sigh.

"Right."

"I've never heard of anything like that before. Still the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter did say it."

"And as far as what the legend says happens, it's pretty accurate and all—scratching one's eyes out," Elle commented.

"I'll admit it, it's something worth checking in to," Sam conceded.

"So, just adding another theory, do you think that if I said Voldemort three times, he'd come and Avada Kedavra Dean's ass?" Elle asked sarcastically.

"What the hell are you doing to my ass?" Dean asked.

"Not me, Lord Voldemort."

"That doesn't make it any better, who the hell is Lord Voldymoldy?"

"Voldemort," Sam chuckled. "He's from Harry Potter."

"I knew I never should have let you two read that crap. And stay the hell away from my ass."

"Harry Potter is not crap!" Elle argued.

"What are you three doing?" the girl name Charlie interrupted standing in the doorway with a sour expression on her face.

"Clearly, I'm trying to explain to my—uh—uncle, that Harry Potter is not crap."

"Not what I meant. Donna specifically said to stay out of this bathroom."

"Well, there are three of us—three bathrooms, it just made sense," Dean argued.

"Who are you?" Clearly she wasn't going to be side-tracked.

"Like we said downstairs, Sam and I worked with Donna's dad and Elle—"

"Oh really? He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself."

"No, I know, I mean—"

"All those weird questions downstairs, what was with that? You better cut the crap and tell me what's going on."

"Cut the crap? In the bathroom?" Dean couldn't help but laugh.

"I mean it! Tell me or I'll scream and you know that things won't end well."

"Hey, now let's figure this out calmly," Elle said.

"I'm perfectly calm—for now."

"All right, all right. Honest truth is that we think something happened to Donna's dad," Sam said taking a few steps closer to Charlie.

"Yeah—a stroke."

"That's not a sign of a typical stroke, deep down you have to realize that," Elle said. "Which leads us to the conclusion that it might be something else."

"Like what?"

"To be honest, we don't have a friggin clue, which is why we came here undercover. In past experiences, people are usually a little more up front if they don't have the added pressure of an official interrogation. But if you're going to believe anything, believe that we don't want this to happen to anyone else."

"So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead and do it now," Dean said. "Just give me a second to plug my ears."

"Are you guys supposed to be cops?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah—something like that."

"Hey, I'll tell you what. Here," Sam responded as he pulled a piece of paper and pen out of his pocket and wrote his cell phone number down on it. "Just in case you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange; out of the ordinary…just give us a call."

"Now, if you'll excuse us—we have uh—business—to attend to downstairs," Dean said.

"Probably at the dessert table—I saw pie," Elle muttered with a sigh.

Dean, Sam, and Elle walked out of the bathroom and headed down the hallway before going back downstairs. Just as she had predicted, Dean headed straight for the dessert table, snatching a plate with a piece of cherry pie before he took a second plate and slid the other piece onto the first place.

"Dean, we're at a wake. People are watching, quite being an ass," Elle hissed.

"You're one to talk Cream Puff Girl with filling on your face," Dean responded before he shoveled a large bite of pie into his mouth.

"Shut up."

"What kind of comeback was that? I was expecting more from you."

"Guys, we have work to do," Sam said shaking his head at his siblings. "You know—before more people die."

Elle looked to Dean who just shook his head. Leave it to Sammy to put them right back on track. For a moment, Elle wondered how she and Dean managed to get anything done before Sammy joined back up with them. Granted, for the most part Dad had been around and Elle was almost nervous to be her usual annoying self around him. Dean would sometimes make fun of her for acting different when Dad was around—but she couldn't really help it. She was almost willing to do anything to get her father to take some positive notice of her. With his pie in hand, Dean headed for the door followed by Elle and Sam. With a smile on his face, Sam leaned over to his sister and asked her how long she thought it would be before Dean noticed that Sam still had the keys. Elle couldn't help but laugh. Dean turned around to see what his siblings were laughing at while his cheeks were full of pie as chipmunk's cheeks. Dean shook his head and set the plate of pie on the roof of the car before he opened the door and then began patting his pockets in desperation.

"Don't tell me that you left the keys inside," Elle groaned with a wink toward Sam.

"They're probably by the pie," Dean muttered. "I'll be right back."

Dean headed back into the house, carrying his pie with him for safe keeping, and neither Sam nor Elle did anything to stop him. Instead, they decided to mess with Dean and they moved the car a couple more blocks away from the house. Sam and Elle laughed as they waited for their older brother who must have realized their trick because his look was a bit pissed off. Dean muttered something about getting his revenge before he motioned for Sam to give him the keys. The oldest Winchester put the keys in the ignition before the Impala was put into drive and on its way to the public library.

Once inside the library, the Winchesters headed toward the computers—which happened to be out of order, meaning that all the work of sifting through public records was going to have to be done the old fashioned way whine none of them were happy about. Elle got stuck looking through obituaries on the old microfiche machine while Sam and Dean took the stacks of paper copies and began looking through them. Elle looked at the tiny print until her eyes were practically crossing. She felt like the kid from the Sixth Sense—she could see dead people-after looking at obituaries for hours. After about four hours of searching, Elle rested her head against the screen and fell asleep. She woke up to Dean poking his finger into her cheek which pushed her face into the drool that had run down the screen. Elle slapped at Dean's hands as she tried to pull her face away from the screen, but he playfully held her face there with a smirk on his face. It got to the point that the librarian had to come over and tell them to be quiet—and that they were closing soon. So, the research would have to continue in some random motel room—which wasn't unusual for the Winchesters.

Elle was the first one to push into the room and claim the bed farthest from the door as her own. Sam then collapsed on the other bed, leaving Dean to take the rollaway bed, that was, if he was even going to sleep that night. Sam propped his pillows up and leaned against the headboard with a stack of newspapers to sift through. Although, it wasn't too long before he was asleep. After he been asleep a while, Elle lay on her stomach on the bed, flipping through obituaries when she caught a glance at Sam before she looked up to Dean.

"You know what we haven't done in a while?" Elle said innocently.

"I'm busy," Dean said not looking up from his stack of newspapers.

"C'mon, you know you want to. You're not one to pass up an opportunity like this."

Dean looked up with an eyebrow cocked.

"What exactly are you thinking?" he asked.

Elle held up the Sharpie permanent marker she had been using to mark anything suicide related with a smirk.

"Hell, I might as well join you because if I don't you're gonna tell him that I did it anyway—so he's gonna be pissed at me either way."

Dean grabbed his Sharpie and walked over to the bed Sam was sleeping in. This felt like the time when she was sixteen and they did this exact same thing. Of course Dean had been the mature one and he drew boobs all over Sam's face. This time though, things stayed pretty G-rated, surprisingly. Dean drew eyeballs on Sam's eyelids and Elle gave him whiskers before they both colored in a unibrow on his face. It was surprising that he didn't wake up. He must have been downright tired—but the look on his face told otherwise. He was having another one of his dreams—presumably about Jessica. When he seemed like he was about to come-to, Dean and Elle sprinted back to their respective places in the room—quickly picking up their research once more.

"Look who finally decided to join us," Dean said looking at Sam above the newspaper.

"Why'd you guys let me fall asleep?" Sam asked.

"Cause I'm an awesome brother."

"He's some brother all right—you should see your face," Elle said with a smirk.

"Dean what did you do?" Sam asked as he stood up and walked to the mirror. He muttered an obscenity before he rushed to the sink and began to scrub his face with water—which wasn't working.

"Why do you automatically think it was me?" Dean asked standing up and leaning against the wall. "It was Elle-Belle's idea."

"So you're saying that the devil made you do it?"

"Close enough."

"Hey, I'm not the devil, you ass," Elle shouted before running over. "And I can't believe that you try to push your shenanigans off on me."

"You'd better not be buying her innocent act. Would I really draw something as childish as whiskers?"

"Guys, just shut up," Sam groaned, giving up trying to scrub the marker off his face. "I'm not awake enough to process you two."

"Speaking of you sleeping—what were you dreaming about?" Elle asked.

"Lollipops and candy canes," Sam said.

"If you're going to lie—at least make it believable."

"Maybe that was the point."

"Yeah, sure," Dean said.

"So, did either of you find anything?" Sam asked.

"That you sleep through anything?" Elle quipped.

"I meant about the case."

"Besides a whole new level of frustration? No. I've looked at everything. A few local women, a Laura and a Catherin committed suicide in front a mirror, and a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave. What about you Elle?" Dean added.

"A girl name Jordan tripped headfirst into mirror and sliced her carotid artery—otherwise nadda. Zilch," Elle responded.

"So no friggin Mary."

After giving up on scrubbing his face, Sam walked back to his bed and fell backward onto it.

"Maybe we just haven't found it yet," Sam said with a sigh.

"We? Really, we?" Elle scoffed.

"Well—I know that I've also been searching for strange deaths in the area, you know—the eyeball bleeding sort of thing. There's nothing. Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary," Dean said.

Sam's phone began to ring. He slowly moved to grab it before he put it up to his ear. He must not have recognized the number because he had a slightly confused look on his face. He answered it before his eyes widened. Dean asked him who it was, but Sam only rolled his eyes. Then Elle yanked the phone out of his hand and put it on speaker phone. Sam looked slightly upset, but he didn't dwell on it too long. Instead, all three Winchesters focused on Charlie and her crying. Apparently, the other girl from the funeral: Jill had just been found dead on her bathroom floor with her eyes gone.

"Hon, we're so sorry," Elle comforted.

"But there's something else—"Charlie started before pausing for a moment. "She said it."

"You mean—Bl…" Dean started.

"Yes, that! I heard her say it. But it couldn't possibly because of that. I'm insane, right?" Charlie cried.

"No, you're not insane," Sam said.

"Otherwise, what would that make us?" Dean said with a chuckle.

"Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse!" Charlie whined.

"Damnit Dean," Elle hissed. "Charlie, honey, we want to help you get to the bottom of this. We think that there's something happening here. Something that can't be explained."

"We're going to stop it, I promise you that," Dean said, sounding much more sincere.

"But we're going to need your help," Sam said.

"What do you need?" Charlie sniffled.

"We need to see how Mr. Shoemaker and Jill's cases are related. We've seen where Mr. Shoemaker died…" Elle started.

"And now you need to see where Jill d—d—" Charlie cried, unable to get the word died out.

"Yeah, now I know it's going to be painful; but—"

"I'll do it. If it will keep anyone else from dying—I'm in."

"You're doing a really brave thing."

"I don't feel brave."

"People are always braver than they think they are," Sam chimed in.

"You should've seen Elle when we were little. She used to be so scared—" Dean started.

"Can we meet you at Jill's in an thirty minutes?" Elle asked interrupting Dean. "You'll go inside and let us in."

"I'll get stuck stalking with her mom and I'm going to bawl my eyes out. Better make it an hour. I'll let you in through her window. It's on the second story," Charlie said.

"Shouldn't be a problem," Sam added. "We'll be there."

Charlie quickly gave them Jill's address and without even saying goodbye, she hung up her phone leaving silence over the line. Elle felt bad for the girl; but she was also surprised that the teenage girl was so trusting of them. Elle wouldn't have been at that age. Then again, Elle hadn't been a typical teenage girl. She knew better than to be too trusting. The only people she trusted back then were Sam, Dean, and Bobby—even back then she didn't completely trust her father. With a sigh, Elle stood up as Sam put his phone back into his jacket pocket. Sam stood up but then Dean pushed him back onto the bed.

"I'm not taking you anywhere with that crap on your face," Dean said.

"Funny," Sam said sarcastically.

"No, I'm being serious."

"What the hell do you want me to do Dean? You're the one who put this crap on my face in the first place."

"Don't forget Elle was a part of this too."

Elle ignored as Sam countered Dean's response as she walked over to her bag. She might still have a little nail polish remover left. Dean had scribbled all over her once when Sam was at Stanford and the nail polish removers seemed to do the trick and take the stuff off—or at least removed it enough that people had to look very carefully to notice that there was any ink there in the first place. She took the bottle out of her bag and stood up.

"Butt-munch, try this," Elle said holding up the bottle of nail polish remover.

"Which one of us are you talking to?" Sam asked.

"The one who needs to get the marker off."

"You do realize that by you giving him whatever the hell that is—you're ruining all the fun." Dean groaned.

"That seems to be the meaning of my life. What else are little sisters for?"

Elle tossed Sam the bottle of nail polish remover, which he simply stared at for a few seconds before he trudged over to the mirror with it in his hands. She called for him to not get it in his eyes, to which he responded that he wasn't stupid. Typical conversation—nothing out of the ordinary. Five minutes later, Sam called for Elle to help him get the stuff off his eyelids. She rolled her eyes before she walked over to help him to which Dean responded that he was leaving in five minutes with or without them and he left the motel room. The younger Winchesters quickly and carefully hurried up before they practically ran to the Impala—just in case Dean tried to peel-off without them. Once they got near Jill's house, they parked the car about a block away to avoid suspicion once more. They walked the rest of the way to Jill's house and shimmied up the trellis to the roof. Charlie opened the window and stuck her head out and motioned with her hands for them to come through that window. Elle was the first one inside, which she practically fell on her face—but she was careful not to scream otherwise Jill's mom would come running. Sam crawled inside and then Dean through a duffel bag which landed on Elle before he came inside. Sam was nice enough to pick the duffel bag off Elle and he set it down on the bed before he started going through it. Elle just lay there on the floor before she rolled from her stomach onto her back. She couldn't bring herself to move any more. Maybe she needed a Life Alert thing—but then again no one was moving to help her in the first place.

"What did you tell Jill's mom?" Sam asked.

"Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things," Charlie sighed. "I hate lying to her, especially after what she's going through."

"Trust us, it's for the great good. Now, hit the lights," Dean said.

"Before you do that, can you give me a hand," Elle groaned holding her hands up in the air—looking like a zombie. "I've fallen and I can't get up."

"Maybe you should invest in Life Alert," Dean commented.

"Already thought of that; but this will have to make do for now."

Elle waved her hands until Charlie took hold of one of them and yanked the Winchester girl to her feet. The brunette muttered her thanks before the blonde walked over to the light switch and turned out the lights.

"What exactly are you guys looking for?" Charlie asked.

"We'll let you know as soon as we find it" Dean commented.

"Don't worry, you're not the only one he talks to like that," Elle added.

"He's not the first guy I've talked to like that," Charlie responded somewhat flustered.

"He probably won't be the last either. Besides, at least you don't have to put up with this one as much as I do."

"Must suck having him as your uncle."

"How old do you think I am?" Dean questioned.

"I don't know—Forty?" Charlie retorted.

"Really? Forty? I'm in the prime of my twenties. God, I hope I don't live to be forty."

"That can be arranged," Elle retorted.

"No commentary from the peanut gallery—now let's do this thing."

"Dean, how does this thing go to night vision?" Sam asked holding up the digital camera.

"There's this fancy new contraption called a night-vision switch," Dean said sarcastically as he turned the camera to night vision. "Really high-tech."

"Shut up, you ass."

Dean smirked as Sam aimed the camera at him. He then struck a pose and asked if it made him look like Paris Hilton. Elle rolled her eyes because she knew that Dean knew what he was talking about having watched the infamous video—even with his little sister in the room. Thinking back to that memory made her cringe. Her brother was a pervert; that was for sure. Sam asked where a mirror was and Charlie opened the door to Jill's closet before Sam walked in and began filming around the mirror.

"So, I don't get it. I mean—the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?" Sam asked.

"Beats me," Dean said.

"I still vote, Voldemort," Elle commented.

"You've read Harry Potter? Have you read the sixth book yet?" Charlie asked. "I got my copy right when it came out and then my dad came home from work with one."

"No, I was hoping Uncle Dean would get me a copy for Christmas, but he didn't get me anything."

"What an ass."

"I know—I appreciate it too," Dean said seriously before stopping in front of Charlie. "Now, what I really want to know is why Jill said it in the first place."

"It was just a joke."

"Yeah, well, somebody's gonna say it again. It's just a matter of time."

Sam walked across the room to the bathroom with the camera and started filming the mirror. He then called for them the rest of them to come into the bathroom. Elle got there first and Sam pointed to something that looked like a trickle coming from behind the mirror. What the hell was that? Sam removed the mirror from the wall before he had Elle help him carry it into the bedroom. They laid it on the bed upside down. Dean ran back to the car to get the black light as Sam went back to the bathroom to reexamine the wall. Elle began slowly peeling back the brown paper on the back of the mirror.

"What's this for?" Charlie asked.

"It's just a hunch right now, but Sam's hunches are usually pretty accurate," Elle started. "If he's right—then there's going to be something on the back of this mirror that's only visible with a black light."

"One of those things they use on CSI?"

"Yeah."

"So, you think it's like the invisible map on the back of the Declaration of Independence in National Treasure?"

"We'll have to wait and see. But I don't think it's something that involves a happy ending."

"Their friggin dog was chasing me," Dean growled as he slipped back inside the window. "And I stepped in its crap."

"Jill's family doesn't have a dog," Charlie responded.

"Then they won't miss it."

"Did you kill the dog?" Elle asked with her arms folded across her chest.

"Kill? No. Knocked unconscious? That's a grey area."

"Just hand over the black light."

Dean tossed Elle the black light which accidentally slipped through her fingers and fell to the floor with a thud. Elle's eyes widened as Jill's mom called up the stairs to ask if Charlie was all right.

"I'm fine," Charlie said. "Just tripped."

Jill's mom didn't say anything else nor did she finish coming up the stairs.

"Let's get this over. I don't know how much more lying to her I can take."

Sam walked over and picked up the black light before he shined it on the back of the mirror. Charlie gasped at the sight of seeing the words "Gary Bryman" and a handprint show up on the back of the mirror. Elle grabbed Charlie's hand and gave the girl's hand a reassuring squeeze. Charlie nodded her head in thanks before he removed her hand from Elle's and ran it through her fingers.

"Do you know who Gary Bryman is?" Sam asked.

"Not a clue," Charlie responded.

"Well, whoever he is—he's got to be involved somehow," Dean reasoned.

"I think we know what this means—more research," Elle sighed.

"And pie. I think we're gonna need pie."

"Charlie, sweetheart, why don't you come down for some lunch!" Jill's mom called from downstairs.

"What do I say?" Charlie whispered.

"Say yes, so we can get the hell out of here," Dean said.

"But what about Gary Bryman?" Charlie asked.

"We'll call you for a meet up when we find out," Sam said holding up his phone showing Charlie her phone number.

"You promise?"

"I'll make sure these two knuckle-heads follow through on their promise," Elle said. "We'll be in touch."

Charlie nodded her head before she stood up and walked toward the door as Sam put the mirror back on the wall. The Winchesters crawled out the window as Charlie headed back downstairs to meet with Jill's mom. True to their word, the Winchesters gave Charlie a call when then found out about Gary Bryman and they met up in a park near Charlie's house. Dean, Sam, and Elle waited on the appointed bench waiting for Charlie to show up. When she got there, Sam gave up his seat for her before he handed her a manila folder of information.

"You can look through that if you like—" Sam started.

"But long story short, Gary Bryman was an eight year-old boy who was killed two years ago in a hit and run. Poor kid," Elle interrupted.

"The sad part is nobody ever got the plates or saw the driver. Only information they had to go off of was that the car was a black Toyota Camry."

"Oh my God!" Charlie gasped.

"What?" Sam and Elle asked simultaneously.

"Looks like we need to get back to your friend, Donna's house," Dean responded. "I have a bad feeling about this."

Charlie rode in the Impala with the Winchesters to the Shoemaker's house. Once they arrived, Elle went with Charlie inside the normal way while Sam and Dean shimmied up the rain gutters to get inside that bathroom. Charlie introduced Elle once again to Donna. Elle was pretty sure that Donna was faking being happy about meeting her again. Elle couldn't help but wonder how many times Donna had forced that look on her face the past few days. But what made Elle feel sad was knowing that the girl was going to have to do it for the rest of her life and eventually she was going to crack. Elle knew from experience and she wished that there was something more she could do. But before Elle could even offer anything, Sam and Dean around to the front door. Damn, that was fast.

"Donna, we need to talk," Dean said. "It'll only take a second if you're honest."

"I—I've been honest with you," Donna said.

"Linda Shoemaker, who is she?" Sam asked.

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Look, we're sorry, but it's important."

"Guys, be nice. She just lost her dad," Elle hissed.

"We wouldn't be asking if it wasn't necessary," Dean added.

"Linda's my mom, okay? She overdosed on sleeping pills. It was an accident and that's it," Donna said in frustration.

"You're sure?"

"Who are you to ask me that?" Donna snapped. "You know, I think you should leave."

"Now, Donna, those two are idiots; but if—" Elle started, attempting to cover for her brothers.

"I said get out of my house! Or I'll call the cops!" Donna shouted.

Donna ran upstairs and the Winchesters weren't about to risk getting the cops called, so they stepped outside and walked to the Impala with Charlie who seemed completely confused.

"Do you really think that her dad could've killed her mom?" Charlie asked.

"Maybe," Sam sighed.

"I think we can conclude that it is definitely part of the equation," Elle said diplomatically. "But before we make any rash decisions we should go do some more research."

"I—I think I should stick around here," Charlie said. "Make sure that's she's going to be okay."

"Fine, but whatever you do, don't—" Dean started.

"Believe me, I won't say it," Charlie agreed.

Charlie went back inside the house while the Winchesters piled into the Impala and headed back to the motel. Once back at the motel, Elle practically collapsed onto her bed. Sam immediately went his laptop on the table while Dean pulled the second chair beside him.

"Did you guys have to be complete asses to Donna?" Elle groaned.

"We needed information," Dean said gruffly.

"Well did you stop to think for a minute that she's still grieving her father and then you went and marred the memory of her father?"

"Honestly, no. We don't think like girls."

"I'm going to ignore that obvious insult for a moment."

"You do that."

"I'm going to kick you in the balls again."

"Then say good-bye to Tigger."

"I'm going to kick you in the balls again—in my dream which I'm going to sleep so I can put that dream on repeat."

Elle quickly brushed her teeth and changed into a large t-shirt before she crawled into bed and fell asleep. She must have overslept or something because the next morning, she saw Sam and Dean back at the computer but this time there were mentions of a Mary Worthington and Fort Wayne, Indiana. Elle sat up in bed, her hair sticking up in many directions. She yawned loudly which caused her brothers to look her direction.

"How was the dream?" Dean questioned.

"Disappointing, I don't remember any of it," Elle groaned. "So, did you guys find something out?"

"Yeah," Sam responded. "We might've found Mary."

"In Fort Wayne?"

"You heard that?"

"Yeah—you guys weren't exactly trying to be quiet. So when do we go?

"We don't go," Dean said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Uncle Dean enrolled you in high school when he was pissed at you. You start today by the way," Dean said with a smirk. "Charlie will be here to pick you up in about—uh—fifteen minutes."

"No. No, you didn't," Elle said standing up.

"Oh but he did."

"You can't make me go."

"Try me."

"I'm too old to be in high school."

"You're short and you look like you're twelve, you'll blend right in."

"I'm not going."

"Elle, while I admit Dean's reasons weren't completely justified, you can get a better look into things. Most of the people that say Bloody Mary are teenage girls. Being undercover will help us figure out who is next. Besides, you already seemed to get along with Charlie not to mention that Dean and I need to go down to the station in Fort Wayne. You know that it always looks suspicious with a group of three." Sam added.

"Well, then why can't you go back to high school?" Elle pouted.

"I think Sam will stand out if you know what I mean," Dean said. "And he's sensitive and couldn't handle getting picked-on his first day of high school."

"That's bullshit."

"But it's pretty good bullshit. Now eat your breakfast and get dressed."

Dean pointed to the cinnamon roll and cup of hot chocolate on the table. Elle got out of bed and reached for the hot chocolate and took a sip. It was cold. She rolled her eyes and went into the bathroom and quickly got ready for her first day of high school. As if high school wasn't bad enough the first time around—jumping around from school to school—now she was going to subject herself to the tortures again just to make sure that teenage girl population wasn't doing something stupid. She was setting herself up for failure. Elle donned an oversized burgundy sweater, jeans, and her blue Converse with a messy bun. If she had to do this—she was going to be comfortable while doing it. By the time she got out of the bathroom, Charlie was waiting in the room.

"C'mon, we're going to be late," Charlie said.

Elle shot an icy look at Dean before she snatched her cinnamon roll, flung her backpack on, and headed out the door with Charlie. Charlie's ride wasn't anything impressive, a 94 Pontiac Grand Prix, but it got them to school. Slowly, she followed Charlie into the school building. She could already feel the teenage boys beginning to stare. She attempted to ignore them but when one came up and wrapped his arm around her shoulder and asked for her name, she reached her hand up to grab the boys hand before she squeezed it tightly and then managed to get it off her shoulder and behind his back at an awkward angle.

"I have two brothers who will do worse if you think about doing that to any girl, ever again," Elle whispered for only him to hear. "You're going to apologize and then walk away a changed man. Do you understand?"

The boy stammered an apology and Elle released him before he ran away like a little girl.

"Uh—the hormones," Elle shuddered. "I swear I'm going to kill Dean."

High school the second time around wasn't any more enjoyable, just as she had predicted. Dean made sure to do one thing right—get her in the same classes as Charlie, so at least she wasn't all alone. Besides, Charlie and Donna were their only known links to both victims. But Elle assumed that Donna was still pissed judging by the icy glares during English class. They were reading the novel Huckleberry Finn and Elle knew that it was supposed to be quality literature, but she couldn't even stand the book the last time she read it. In fact she hated it so much that she never made it past the first chapter which made doing a one-sentence summary for every chapter quite entertaining. She had managed to get herself an A+ on the assignment by simply writing "They continued down the river." for ¾ of the chapters. The teacher must have never actually read what she had written. But if she had thought the book was bad the first time around—it was worse the second time around. After English, Elle headed with Charlie to their history elective—Greek and Roman Mythology. Elle actually enjoyed the class—although, she may have had a small argument with the teacher because he mixed up a few of his gods, but other than that it was great. Before they were about to head to physics, Donna asked to meet in the bathroom. Elle followed Charlie into the bathroom, but Donna was clearly not having that.

"In private," Donna snapped.

"I'll uh—I'll just wait out here then," Elle said before walking outside and leaning back against someone's locker with her head.

From outside, Elle could hear Donna getting pretty pissed and she felt bad for Charlie. Her being around probably didn't help the matter any. Elle then flinched when she heard a final scream of Bloody Mary echo down the hallway. Shit. Not good. Not good at all. Donna came out of the bathroom first and yelled at Elle to stay the hell away from her; but Elle just rolled her eyes and walked into the bathroom to see Charlie on the floor crying.

"This is messed up," Charlie sniffled.

"You wanna skip class?" Elle asked. "Go get some ice cream or something?"

"It's not even lunch yet."

"So? Is there ever a bad time to get ice cream?"

"No, but I should go to class. Gotta go on living life like normal, right?"

"Damn, you've got some will-power to turn down ice cream for physics."

Charlie and Elle went to physics and sat at the same lab table as the teacher began his lecture about elements and what happens if they lose ions. Elle could care less about the ionic radius and the atomic radius. She wasn't sure how much more of the boring lecture she was going to be able to handle—but when Charlie screamed bloody murder, she wished that thought had never crossed her mind. She would have much rather sat through a boring lecture than what go through what she was about to go through with Charlie. Elle tried to calm Charlie down, but it was no use—the teenage girl got up from her stool and started running around the room. There was another scream before she picked up the stool into the window. At that moment, Elle realized that Charlie was seeing Bloody Mary. Elle rushed to Charlie's aid, but the teacher intervened and pulled Charlie away from Elle.

"Just let me help her," Elle hissed.

"I know how to handle my student, Miss Campbell," the teacher hissed. "Charlie, stop it. Just calm down!"

Charlie looked at the teacher and she must have seen her reflection one more time because she pushed the teacher and ran out of the room screaming. Elle wanted to make some snarky comment about what a scream his class had been—but instead, she ran out of the room after Charlie. Charlie ran until she was outside and Elle followed after her. Charlie ran until she got to the soccer fields where she collapsed on the grass in tears. Elle slowly came up behind her and Charlie curled into a ball. Elle bent down and rested her hand on Charlie's shoulder. Charlie flinched for a moment before she looked to Elle with tears shining in her eyes.

"You saw her, didn't you?" Elle asked.

"Yes," Charlie cried.

"Let's get you back to the motel. It will be safe there. Until then, tie my sweater around your eyes like a blindfold. No reflective surfaces for you." Elle took her oversized sweater off, revealing an olive green tank top.

"You—you're not going to ask me if I killed anyone?" Charlie asked as she wrapped the sweater around her face.

"One thing at a time. First, we get you safe. Now, give me your keys. I need to drive us."

And just like that—Elle's second round of high school was done and over with. Despite not particularly enjoying driving, Elle drove Charlie's Grand Prix to the motel that the Winchesters were staying at. When they finally got to the motel, Elle led Charlie inside by the hand but the blindfold was still not removed. Elle had her work cut out for her drawing the curtains, throwing sheets over the mirror, turning pictures around so that they faced the wall, or simply placing them face down on the floor. Any and every reflective surface was taken care of before Charlie could remove the sweater from her face. Elle called Sam and Dean to let them know the situation and she could practically hear the Impala burning rubber. When she hung up the phone, Elle took a seat on the bed next to Charlie who was crying with her knees to her face.

"You can tell me now or you can tell me when Sam and Dean get here," Elle sighed.

"Do we have to tell your uncles?" Charlie asked.

"They're not actually my uncles. They're my brothers."

There were a few moments of silence in which Charlie just sniffled before she finally spoke.

"I suppose since you came clean with me, I'll do the same. I had this boyfriend once. God, I love him. But he kind of scared me too, you know?"

"Do you really think I get any opportunities to date having Dean around?"

"Point taken. Well, there was this one night at his house and we got in a fight. Then I broke up with him and he got really upset. He said he needed me and that he loved me. He said, 'Charlie if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself." And you know what I said? 'Go ahead.' And I left. How could I say that? How could I just leave him like that? I just—I didn't believe him. I should have." Charlie finished before she buried her face back in her knees.

"Have you told anyone that before?"

"You're the only soul alive who knows."

"Charlie, I'm sorry something like that happened to you. But you do know that it's not your fault he killed himself. That was his choice. His selfish choice."

"But it feels like my fault."

Charlie collapsed on the bed in tears. Elle sighed and got up, giving he girl some time cry things out. She knew that sometimes a good cry was necessary and who she to deny the teenage girl that? Charlie cried so much that she cried herself to sleep and was still sleeping when Sam and Dean arrived, drenched from the downpour of rain outside. According to Sam and Dean, Mary's spirit was going after people who had secrets of people dying. Which completely explained why she was going after Charlie. Elle explained to Sam and Dean Charlie's situation. Thankfully, Sam and Dean already had a plan and it involved the original mirror and they had even managed to track the bloody thing down. Elle went over and tucked a leftover blanket around Charlie before she wrote her a note.

Charlie~

We're going to end this tonight. Stay here until we come back for you. There's some ice cream in the mini-fridge's mini-freezer and plastic spoons by the sink. Hopefully, we'll be back soon.

~Elle, Sam, and Dean

With that, Sam, Dean, and Elle headed to the Impala. Their destination was Estate Antiques and they had a mirror to smash and a vengeful spirit to take down. They were rather quiet until Elle asked what the plan was exactly.

"I've been thinking more about this—and it might not be enough to just smash the mirror," Sam said.

"Why?" Elle asked. "Isn't that how we normally do things. Destroy the earthly thing it's attached to?"

"Yeah, but Mary's hard to pin down. She moves around from mirror to mirror. So who's to say that she's not gonna just keep hiding in them forever. We should pin her down first. Get her where we want her."

"You mean summon her?" Dean asked.

"Exactly. Summon her to her mirror and then smash it."

"Who says that's gonna work?" Elle asked.

"No one."

"Well who's gonna summon her?" Dean asked.

"I will. She'll come after me."

Dean pulled the car over much to Elle's surprise. He looked pretty pissed too.

"You know what? That's it. This is about Jessica, isn't it?" Dean hissed.

"Dean, I thought we were letting him take his time with this," Elle said through gritted teeth.

"He can't keep doing this. You've said so yourself, Elle. He thinks that it's his dirty little secret that he somehow killed her. Well Sammy, this has got to stop, man. The nightmares, the calling her name in the middle of the night—its gonna kill you."

"Or make you like Dad."

"But you listen to me, Sam Winchester, it wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place."

"I don't blame you—either of you," Sam responded.

"Well, there's no use blaming yourself because there's nothing you could've done."

"I could've warned her."

"About what? You didn't know what was going to happen! And besides, all of this isn't a secret. I mean I know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway."

"You don't know all about it. I haven't told you everything."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?"

"No. I don't like this. It's not gonna happen, forget it."

"We all have our secrets, Dean," Elle responded. "You of all people should know that. Besides, Charlie is going to die if we don't take care of this. As much as I don't want Sam to do this—it could easily be you or me. Sure Sam can say the stupid words—but that doesn't guarantee she'll go after him. Shoemaker and Charlie are proof of that."

"I still don't like this," Dean growled.

"You don't have to like it. You just need to promise not to stop me," Sam responded.

"I'm going to be too busy trying to stop her," Dean muttered.

They pull up to the closed shop which was dark, but looking through the window, it was plain to see that this place was going to be like a playground for Mary with so many friggin mirrors. Sam picked the lock, allowing them entrance into the shop. They stopped for a moment, as they passed the picture of the mirror around so that they knew what they were looking for before the Winchesters split up. To be honest, Elle wasn't the biggest fan of splitting up. Things always seemed to go wrong in the movies when tight-knit groups split up to go looking for thing; but at least she was armed with a baseball bat. Sam was the one who found the thing and called for Dean and Elle to examine the mirror. She found Sam pointing his flashlight at a mirror.

"Is that it?" Elle asked

"That's it," Dean sighed after he compared the mirror to the picture he held in his hand. "Sammy, you're sure about this?"

"Someone's gotta do it," Sam responded.

Sam was right—someone had to do it. But she had meant what she said before about Sam not being the only one with secrets. She too harbored a secret that Dean wasn't even aware of. A secret that she carried with her for a long time now. A secret that made her a worthy opponent for Mary. But the plan wasn't to beat Sam to the punch and see Mary. No—her intent was to say the words at the exact same time as him to try and confuse her. Mary had never gone up against two people at once. Maybe—they could at least confuse her a little and trick her back into her mirror. With every Bloody Mary Sam said, Elle whispered it quietly besides him—barely audible. There was nothing that said she had to scream it at the top of her lungs. After the third Bloody Mary, a light shone through the front window. Dean volunteered to go check it out as Elle positioned herself so that she was back to back with Sam who was armed with a crowbar. Elle had her bat ready to swing. She jumped when she heard a breath come from a different mirror so she swung her bat and smashed the mirror.

"Elle, you see her too?" Sam said through gritted teeth.

"Do you really want to know the answer to that?" Elle asked.

"What the hell did you do?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"You can kill me when we're done killing her."

Sam must have seen her because he smashed another mirror. Elle then saw her and smashed a mirror. Sam then grabbed Elle and turned her toward Mary's mirror. Right. This had been the plan the entire time, but she was letting Mary get to her. Knowing that this was what Charlie had gone through really made her feel for the girl—but she needed to stay on task.

"She's gotta be in here," Sam hissed.

"Well—it looks like Mary's too chicken to come in this one," Elle said more confidently than she was feeling. "You hear that Mary? I think you're a chicken-shit!"

Timidly, Elle took a deep breath before she looked into the mirror. Both Sam and Elle began having trouble breathing. Looked like even two people weren't quite a match for Mary. Elle could feel the blood beginning to trickle from her eyes and her head pounding. Both Sam and Elle dropped their weapons. Sam clutched at his heart and Elle clutched at her head.

"It's your fault. You killed her. You killed your mother! She would still be alive if she had never been pregnant with you! You've known it for years! Because of you, your father was driven into a mad downward spiral, killing the man he once was. Because of you your brothers have never been able to lead the normal lives they were destined for. You killed their dreams."  
"I know. I know it's my fault," Elle cried feeling like her head was about to explode.

"If it wasn't for you—" Mary started once more.

Elle felt collapsed to the floor as Dean smashed the mirror into bits and pieces. With both Sam and Elle on the ground, Dean could see that Sammy was still breathing rather normally, so he rushed to Elle's aid. He placed her head in his lap. He slapped at her cheeks but there was no response. She couldn't be dead. Her eyeballs hadn't exploded like the others. Sam crawled over to where Dean had Elle. His eyes cheeks were wet with a mixture of blood and tears.

"If you don't wake up, I'm never going to forgive you," Sam said roughly.

For a moment there was silence until Elle's eyes flung open and she gasped for air.

"What do I need forgiveness for this time?" Elle groaned.

"Everything loser, everything," Sam said. "Now can we get the hell out of here?"

Dean pulled Sam and Elle to their feet. Both of them were weak and they needed his support; but he couldn't handle both of them at once. Sam sat back down, breathing heavily.

"Take Elle first," Sam offered.

Dean nodded his head and carried Elle to the entrance of the store and set her down on the floor before he went back for Sam. Elle watched as Dean walked carefully across all the broken shards of mirror. She watched as he helped Sam off the floor and let him lean heavily against him. She watched as they began their slow walk toward her; but then her eyes grew wide. Mary was crawling out of the mirror like the bitch coming out of the TV from The Ring. Elle called for her brothers to watch out—but it was too late both Sam and Dean collapsed on the floor and were bleeding from the eyes. She had to help her brothers and despite how weak she was, she began her slow crawl across the broken glass. With every move she took, she could feel another shard jabbing into her hands or knees; but she wouldn't let Mary take her brothers. Just then, Dean pulled a mirror in front of Mary so that she was forced to see her own reflection. Mary then began shouting at herself. Elle froze as she watched Mary begin to choke and then finally melt into a pile of blood. Dean tossed the mirror and it shattered into many pieces—that should take care of Mary.

"Guys," Dean groaned.

"Yeah?" Sam and Elle asked.

"What do you think? This has gotta be like—600 years bad luck?"

"Probably more," Elle added which caused Sam to chuckle. "Can either of you get up?"

"Gimme a minute."

"Yeah, me too," Sam responded.

"I suppose this would have been a good time for Life Alert to come to the rescue. We gotta look into getting one of those with as often as we're in danger."

Somehow the Winchesters managed to make it back into the Impala. Elle was thankful that her pillow and Tigger were still in the backseat. She cuddled up with them after she pulled the glass from her hands and bandaged them with gauze. She lay sprawled out in the backseat until they got back to the motel and Charlie joined them in the car. Since she was finally safe, she could now go home without the looming fear of Mary killing her. They pulled up outside the house and Charlie sighed.

"So is this really over?" Charlie asked.

"Better be," Elle muttered.

"She means, 'yeah, it's over,'" Dean corrected.

"Thank you," Charlie said extending her hand to shake Sam's hand and then Dean's. Elle extended her hand to shake, but Charlie bit her lip for a moment.

"Don't worry about the bandages," Elle commented.

"It's not that-Hey, I have something I want to give you. Just give me a minute," Charlie said.

"Me?" Elle questioned.

But Charlie took off in a sprint for her house. Five minutes later she came back outside with something in her hand. It was a book—a rather thick looking book. Charlie opened the door and tossed the book to Elle. Elle saw a copy of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince on her lap.

"I don't understand," Elle said in confusion.

"You said you hadn't read it. It's the least I could do after everything you did for me," Charlie responded. "Besides, like I said earlier, I have two copies."

"I—I don't know what to say."

"Usually people say thank you," Dean commented sarcastically.

"Thank you," Elle chuckled.

"You're welcome," Charlie said with a smile.

"And Charlie—there was nothing you could have done to stop it. Sometimes bad things just happen," Sam added.

Charlie nodded her head and turned to go into her house.

"That's good advice—" Dean said hitting Sam in the shoulder.

Dean then pulled the car into drive and for a while, they drove in silence for hours. The sun was beginning to set when Dean pulled the Impala over for a stop near a river. Elle had been sleeping in the backseat and was awoken when Dean slapped the window for her to get out. He must have needed something from the trunk; but why stop now?

"Why are we stopping?" Elle asked Sam.

"No idea," Sam muttered.

"Both of you, out now," Dean said holding up a six-pack of beer.

"When did he get the beer?" Elle asked.

"While you were sleeping," Sam answered.

Both Sam and Elle got of the car to find Dean sitting on the hood of the car, watching the sunset. He offered his siblings a beer. Both accepted, but Elle was rather hesitant to do so.

"What is this?" Elle asked. "An intervention?"

"I wanted a beer. Sorry," Dean said sarcastically.

Elle sat between her brothers on the hood of the Impala, slowly sipping her beverage.

"And you-All right, as you know, us Winchesters aren't very good at giving people time to deal—but Elle, I think we need to talk about what Mary said," Dean sighed. "What'd she say?"

Just like she had seen Charlie do earlier, Elle buried her face in her knees—trying to keep the tears from coming. But then Sam wrapped his arms around his sister and she cried into his shirt until it was wet with her tears. Her face grew hot and embarrassed so she started to pull away from her brother, but he wouldn't let her go.

"Elle," Sam whispered. "You can't blame yourself for whatever it is."

"You're one to talk," Elle scoffed.

"Well, I'm the one that asked," Dean said. "And if anyone knows all my secrets—it's you. Don't I deserve the same?"

"I—I-I've always felt that it's my fault Mom's dead. My fault that Dad is the way he is. My fault that you two were given crap lives," Elle sniffled.

"Mom died before you were even born, it can't be your fault-" Dean started.

"Then how the hell do I exist? Do I even exist? Maybe I really am some sort of abomination."

"Well—technically you existed. They actually told me about you that night. And you're not an abomination. You're a Winchester—whether you like it or not."

"But I should have died with Mom. It doesn't add up."

"Things never really add up in this life."

"You're telling me that you've never questioned it? Questioned if I'm some sort of thing we hate and hunt?"

"As far as I'm concerned, you're my little sister, my family and that's all that matters."

"I just wish I knew more about my past. Why am I still here and Mom isn't?"

"Maybe you've got some guardian angel or something looking out for you," Sam added.

"Don't believe him, Elle. It wasn't a friggin angel— everybody knows that we're the only ones looking out for you. Not some creep with a halo and fluffy wings. Besides, we didn't know when to tell you but now is as good as a time as any; it was the stork that brought you," Dean stated.

"Like the one from the pickles?" Elle said, managing a smile through the tears.

"Exactly, we got a complimentary jar of pickles with you too. Damn good pickles."

Dean gave his sister a side hug which made her sigh. He then pulled something out of his jacket pocket and placed it in Elle's hands. It was a silver bracelet with an angel charm on it. Elle's eyes began to water all over again.

"What's this?" Elle asked.

"It was Mom's," Dean said. "I snatched it before Mom died. I don't know that she even knew that I stole it from her."

"Why give it to me?"

"She'd want you to have it. She loved you, Elle and you weren't even born yet. I remember that much."

"Thank you."

"And don't say I never gave you anything."

"What about mine?" Sam teased.

"Not until you tell me what Mary said to you."

"Guys, you're my brother and sister and I'd die for you; but there are some things that I need to keep to myself."

Dean sighed and Elle leaned her head against his shoulder as she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist. Mom must have had a thing for angels—but clearly it wasn't passed on to Dean. But it was nice to have something from her. It was nice to have a quiet moment with her siblings. But when dealing with the Winchesters, things never seem to stay nice and quiet for long.


	7. Skin

Once again, the Winchesters found themselves in the Impala heading for another job, this one, in Arizona. Elle lay across the backseat of the car dangling the silver bracelet Dean had given her in the sun. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince lay discarded beside her. She had quickly read through the book only to find that now she had more questions than answers; but if she knew anything about life: that was completely normal whether you believed in the things that went bump in the night or not. Elle exhaled loudly which caused Sam to look back at her, but she ignored his attempts to draw her into conversation. Mom had been on her mind a lot recently. Ever since she admitted the guilt she had been carrying around for so long, she found that it continued to plague her. Wasn't it supposed to go away once you admitted it? Apparently, not in her case. When Sam and Dean weren't looking, she found herself close to breaking down in tears over her mother—over her father's madness—over the lives Sam and Dean would never get to live. She couldn't help but wonder if maybe it would have been better if Mary had actually succeeded in killing her or—if Constance's plan to drown her in the river had worked—or that damn demon had actually taken the plane down with her on board. Yet, here she was. Still living and still miserable; but she refused to let the tears win. All those people who said that life got better—well, they lied. Maybe normal people's lives got better, but when you were a hunter, things only seemed to get worse.

Normal. That was something she had never been or never would be. She knew Dean told her not to dwell on it because it was the stork that brought her, but she just couldn't shake the missing details from her thoughts. What if there was something wrong with her and that was why Dad avoided them? Dean stopped the Impala at a gas station, to get some gas—obviously. Elle just lay in the backseat lazily, not making a move to get up and head inside. Dean then explained that he hoped that they would get to Tucumcari by lunch and would hopefully hit Bisbee, Arizona by midnight. Elle sighed because that meant she would be left with her thoughts until midnight. Dean then got annoyed that neither of siblings responded to his plan—but Elle was too busy moping and Sam was too busy checking emails on his Palm Pilot. Apparently, Sam was still in contact with some of his friends from Stanford. This piqued Dean's curiosity and if Elle was being honest, she was curious as well. Beyond Dean and Sam for the past few months, the only other person she probably talked to outside of a case was probably Bobby. She also had to admit that she was jealous that Sam had friends outside of them. What would it be like to actually have friends? To have people that you liked because you wanted to like them and not because there was a bond in blood. Although, to a certain patriarchal Winchester—blood didn't count for much.

Dean got out of the Impala to pump some gas, but he didn't drop the conversation on Sam's Stanford friends. Dean thought it was rather irresponsible for him to attempt to keep in contact. Technically, he was lying to his friends. Sam saw it as not telling them everything—Dean saw it as a flat out lie. If Elle was to get technical with them both—it was a lie of omission. But surprisingly, Elle wasn't in the mood to correct either of her brothers—which was almost unheard of—but she wasn't completely feeling like her usual smart-ass self. Instead, she flipped onto her stomach and just watched Dean standing beside the gas pump. He made some funny faces at her—that would usually cause her to at least roll her eyes in annoyance at him; but he didn't even get a reaction out of her and that concerned him.

"What's your deal?" Dean asked through the window.

Elle just shrugged her shoulders. Dean eyed his sister suspiciously. Normally, she would argue with him—saying that there was nothing wrong with her; but her unexpected silence on the situation spoke volumes. Maybe some things were better left buried—at least for Elle. Dean wasn't sure that this kind of Elle was going to be easy to deal with. When he was finished pumping the gas, Dean put the nozzle back in its slot. He was just about to go inside to pay when Sam's response to an email stopped Dean dead in his tracks and Elle lifted her head toward Sam.

"What?" Dean asked frozen like he was playing freeze tag.

"I got an email from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine," Sam responded.

"Is she at least hot?"

"I'm not going to acknowledge that—anyway, I went to school with her and her brother, Zack. She says Zack's been charged with murder. He's been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn't do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty solid case against him."

"Dude, what kind of people are you hangin' out with?"

"No, man, I know Zack. He's no killer."

"Well, maybe you know Zack about as well as he knows you and what the hell, Elle. Normally, you'd be jumping all over something like this—especially if it were me. Where's your commentary? It's not as fun by myself."

Elle shrugged her shoulders again. Dean looked to Sam before he nodded his head back toward Elle.

"He does make a point. You always having some quip to add," Sam said.

"Maybe I have nothing to say," Elle finally responded.

"That's a lie and you know it," Dean scoffed. "What did Sammy even say?"

"You heard him—why should I repeat it to you?"

"She's hedging."

"Definitely hedging," Sam said.

"Ever think that maybe I just get sick of talking to you two?" Elle hissed before she stepped out of the Impala and slammed the door behind her.

"Where do you think you're going?" Dean called.

"The only friggin place where I can get away from you two!"

"Don't think I won't come in there after you!

Elle flipped Dean the bird as she walked away, wrapping her sweatshirt tighter around her body. She actually wouldn't put it past Dean to come into the little girls' room after her—he had done it on multiple occasions in the past. The most recent being about six months ago. Really, there was nowhere safe to be alone—unless she decided to go off and do things on her own, which was always a possibility. Elle had to go to the gas station attendant to get the key to the bathroom. She hated when they locked the bathroom. What was the point to it? Okay—so maybe they didn't want fugitives hiding out in them or anything—but really, it was demeaning to have to get a key if one had to take a friggin dump. She took a look back at her brothers before she closed the bathroom door, locked it, and leaned back against it. Finally, a moment to herself. Although, she was her own worst enemy. She was the one forcing herself into this weird depression funk and she wanted nothing more than to snap herself out of it—but if only it were so easy. A few minutes later there was a knock at the door and Elle didn't respond. She heard the handle jiggle, but it didn't give because it was locked.

"Elle," Dean said through the door. "C'mon, we gotta go."

In her mind, she wanted to respond that she was already going—but she didn't have the heart at the moment to even make that remark to Dean. Instead she kept quiet.

"You come out or I'm coming in."

How about neither? But Dean didn't even wait for a response before he started messing with the door handle. Elle wasn't really surprised at how easily the lock gave way. Dean gave a little push on the door, pushing Elle across the floor, despite her best attempt to keep her older brother from getting in. Somehow he still managed to slip inside, which pissed Elle off even more.

"Let's make this quick," Dean said squatting down on his haunches. "Apparently, we're going to St. Louis and visiting Sammy's friends."

"What about Bisbee?" Elle muttered.

"I'm sure it will still be there when we find out that there's nothing in St. Louis. And since I finally got you talking—what's going on?"

"Nothing. I'm completely fine. You're just making a big deal out of nothing."

"I think that would be you."

"And what would you know about it?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out."

"You don't have to fix every little thing! You're not my father," Elle snapped before she got up and walked past him. "For once in my life, just leave me alone!"

"Because that always goes so well," Dean muttered.

Elle gave her brother a snide look before she walked out of the bathroom, letting the door slam shut behind her, leaving Dean still inside. Once outside, she was greeted by a middle-aged woman in mom jeans and a tacky sweater. Elle told the woman that he would be out in a few shortly before walking away. When Dean left the bathroom the woman screamed and swatted at him. If Elle had been in a better mood she would have fell to the ground and rolled around in laughter; but currently, all she could muster was a smirk. Instead of heading back to the Impala, in her stubbornness, she headed toward the road and began walking westward. She was hardly even to the road when Dean pulled the Impala beside her.

"Elle, get in the god-damn car," Dean hissed. "Quit being so stubborn."

She ignored him.

"Sam, say something to her."

"Uh—Elle, we're sorry for whatever it is you're mad about—" Sam started.

Shows how well you know me—I'm not even pissed at you—either of you, Elle thought. But she just continued walking.

"You have five seconds before I pull the car over and come out and get you myself," Dean said narrowing his eyes. "Five. Four. Three. Two. One."

Elle sighed. She was stubborn enough that Dean's tactics for dealing with children wasn't going to work on her. After one, Dean swore aloud before he pulled the car over and got out. Elle looked back at him and his look was easy to read: pissed off. He easily caught up to her and picked her up in his arms. Two could play this game. Elle began kicking and screaming for help, which made Dean quickly hurry up and shove her in the back of the Impala before he ran back to the driver's side. She had known that she wasn't going to get very far—but she just wanted to be by herself. Was that really so much to ask for? She wanted someone to talk to that wasn't biased about the situation. She wanted someone outside the situation to tell her that everything would be all right. It just wasn't the same coming from her brothers. They had been telling her things like that to appease her for years. Sure, she was acting childish—she knew that; but she never really got a chance to act like a child often, especially around her father. She knew she was forced to grow up too quickly and there was a certain innocence that she would never be able to get back.

After backtracking for 400 miles, they emerged outside Sam's friends' place in St. Louis, still in one piece. Elle hadn't bitten anyone's head off—which Dean had to admit surprised him. Instead, she kept to herself—not really even talking to either of her brothers. Dean knew that they were in St. Louis for Sammy—but he had a feeling that something needed to be done about Elle. She wasn't her usual snarky self—which was worrisome. He had hoped the 400 mile care ride would cure her of her bitchitis as he liked to call it—but no, the silent treatment continued. This wasn't his little sister—but she shot down any attempt to draw her out of her funk. Sam lead them up to the front door of Rebecca's place before he rang the doorbell. A petite blonde girl happily greeted them at the door—quite the contrast from Elle's sour and silent mood. Rebecca hugged Sam tightly and Dean broke them apart when he introduced himself and extended his hand toward her.

"Dean. Older brother," Dean said as Rebecca blushed and stepped back from Sam and shook Dean's hand. "This is Grouch-o."

"He mean's Elle," Sam offered. "She's my little sister."

"Oh—that little sister. Sam talked about you a lot. Elle this—Elle that," Rebecca said. "Hi guys."

"What about me?" Dean asked.

"Uh—we're here to help. Whatever we can do," Sam interrupted.

Elle didn't miss what Sam did. He purposely avoided letting Rebecca answer that question—meaning that he probably hadn't mentioned Dean much at Stanford. But why the hell did he talk about her? She didn't let the fact that he abandoned them bother her anymore—but she wasn't quite sure that she had actually forgiven him. But now she was conflicted with her feelings. Damnit. Why was being a girl so confusing? Why did she have to be so friggin emotional right now? It really wasn't the Winchester way. The Winchester way was to bury everything—which she had done so well up until now. Why couldn't she just push this back down like everything else? If she was pissed at anybody, she was pissed at herself—and her father, but right now she was angrier at herself. God forbid she let herself be human. Elle missed most of the conversation because next thing she knew—Dean was poking her in the side which made her squeal, because she was ticklish, but he did it to get her attention to follow Sam into the house. She followed them into the kitchen—ignoring most of what they were saying. She just examined how huge the house was—what she wouldn't give for a place like that.

Next thing, she knew Rebecca was explaining her brother's situation. Apparently, when this Zack guy went home he found his girlfriend tied to a chair all beat up and not breathing. So the guy called the police and when they showed up, they arrested him. The only hitch was that Zack was apparently with his sister drinking when the security tapes showed him across the street right before Emily was killed. Elle had to admit, it was quite the predicament. But then Sam offered their help—well, more specifically Detective Dean Winchester's help. Elle wasn't sure what to think of Sam's plan. It really risked his friendship if she ever caught onto the lie—not that they were normally found out—at least not until later; but still, Sam must really like this girl in order to drag Dean into matters. Rather reluctantly Dean said that he was a detective in Bisbee, Arizona. It was quite obvious Dean was doing this for Sam and not because he actually believed there to be something supernatural going on. Rebecca walked away to go her some keys leaving the Winchesters alone.

"Zack and Rebecca need our help," Sam said.

"I really don't think this is our kind of problem," Dean responded.

"Two places at once? We've looked into less."

"Elle, tell him."

"You really think she's going to side with you one this one?"

Maybe she's not siding with either of your idiots, Elle thought before she walked out of the kitchen without a word. Sam groaned before he challenged Dean to a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors—to which Sam obviously won, so that meant that they were checking into things more. Rather reluctantly, Elle got in the back of the Impala—there had to be some way to get rid of her brothers for a while. She loved them, but there were times when she just needed to get away from them. She knew it probably wouldn't go over well in the end, when they found out—but she fully intended on finding some sort of clue the boys didn't catch and she'd follow the lead up on her own. This way, she was actually being useful while still getting away from them so that she could think for a minute without having to worry about how they were going to react.

They pulled up outside of Zack's place to see that there was police tape surrounding the place. Of course they had to break into another crime scene—not that a little police tape had ever proved to be problematic before. Sam, Elle, and Dean got out of the Impala and walked inside the house. The place wasn't very pretty—furniture and walls smeared with blood—a lot of blood. Rebecca waited on the porch for a minute to mentally prepare herself. Sam asked Rebecca if she wanted to stay outside, but she crossed under the police tape before she entered the house behind the Winchesters. Rebecca began explaining what the police's version of the story after Sam asked her to. Elle took that opportunity to walk away from the situation to find something that might help her figure this out before her brothers—but beyond a whole bunch of blood there wasn't much see. She overheard Rebecca talking about how somebody broke in the week before and they stole Zack's clothes—Elle found that slightly suspicious. She could be wrong—but whatever happened sounded premeditated, at least it did if Zack wasn't really the guilty party. Knowing Sam as well as she did—she had to assume that he wouldn't go making friends with the wrong sort because that might remind him of Dean and Dad. Which led to the assumption that Zack was presumably innocent—but then again as the old saying went you don't want to assume because that makes an ass out of you and me. Dean stood in the open doorway looking outside at the barking dog—which Rebecca said used to be the sweetest dog ever.

"Elle, come here," Dean said.

Elle turned her head and glared at her brother over her shoulder.

"Please?" Dean scoffed.

With a groan, Elle took a few steps closer to Dean as he asked Rebecca when the dog changed. Elle stopped in the doorway and folded her arms across her chest before she leaned against the doorframe. Dean motioned for her to take a few steps closer but she gave him a look that said he was lucky she even came that far. Dean muttered under his breath before he walked over to Elle and grabbed her arm, yanking her toward the door.

"Do you remember that dog that went psycho when we ran into that ghoul in Salem, Oregon?" Dean asked.

Elle shrugged.

"Fine—don't talk to me but at least nod your head or something."

Elle rolled her eyes as she nodded her head.

"Yes—as in you remember?"

Another nod.

"That's progress—now I'm still not convinced this is a case, but I suppose it can't hurt to check into things a little more."

She shrugged her shoulders to which Dean responded by shoving her up against a wall and getting in her face.

"Now you listen to me and you listen good, Elle. Get over whatever little pathetic pity party you're having for yourself. It's not going to do you any good and it certainly isn't going to do Sam and me any good. Shit happens—you get over it. That's called life. Got it?"

Elle pushed Dean off her before she headed into the kitchen where her currently, less annoying brother stood examining a picture of himself and his friends that was on the refrigerator. He turned toward her and nodded at her to which she gave a raised eyebrow expression before she walked to the back door. At least she could somewhat hide outside. Elle opened the door before she spotted a few spots of blood on the on the doorframe. She hadn't remembered Rebecca saying anything about the police mentioning the backdoor. Had the forensics guys even thought to open the backdoor—after all, the case did seem rather open and shut. She quickly shut the door behind her—not wanting to give that bit of evidence away to her brothers. For a second she felt conflicted. She was being selfish and she knew it—but there were times in life when a person just needed to be selfish or able to try things on their own—or to be away from all the pain she had caused in life. There it was—it was too difficult to see Sam and Dean, knowing how much pain she had caused for them. Elle leaned against the railing on the deck when Sam poked his head out the door.

"Hey, we're leaving. Rebecca has a copy of the security footage at her parents' place."

Elle sighed before she turned around to face Sam with her arms folded defensively across her chest.

"So, I take it Dean's tough love speech didn't work on you. Now, I'm not really one to be judging—but you don't want to head down this path. Believe me."

She didn't say anything as she walked past him—or at least attempting to. Sam blocked her path and told her that he was being serious; but what he didn't understand was that her pain was serious. That's where Dean was wrong—she wasn't holding a pity party for herself—her party was for everyone's lives she had ruined by her very existence.

"Say something," Sam growled.

"Something," Elle muttered before she ducked to the ground and climbed between Sam's legs and into the house.

Sam groaned as Elle slipped through his legs as she had done countless times when they were younger. This had always been her tactic before he had left for Stanford—he would have thought she'd outgrown it; but apparently not. When Sam turned around, he saw his little sister wiping the dirt off her hands and knees before she headed for the front door. Sam shook his head—she was certainly stubborn, that was for sure. A trait that all three Winchester siblings had inherited from John Winchester. Elle was the first one to get to the car—Rebecca attempted to make small talk with Sam's little sister again; but Elle wasn't in the conversing mood. Rebecca must have quickly realized that because she turned the conversation back to Sam and inadvertently, Dean. When they got back to Rebecca's parents' house, they moved to watch the security footage. On the tape, it was plainly visible that Zack walked into his house just after ten o'clock. Rebecca went on about how the tape was authentic nor was it tampered with. Elle looked to Sam who had a look on his face that clearly read that he saw something on the tape. Sam then asked Rebecca to get them some beers and sandwiches—which was clearly a cover to get her out of the room. Elle had to admit, she was intrigued because she hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary. Maybe she hadn't found the clue herself—but she would certainly use it to her advantage. Sam made sure Rebecca was out of the room before he replayed the tape. He paused it when Zack was looking directly at the camera and his eyes were silver.

"Maybe it's just a camera flare," Dean suggested.

"That's not like any camera flare I've ever seen. You know a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul," Sam said.

"Right. So what exactly are you thinking?"

"Well, if we put everything together—the dog that was freaking out and this. Maybe the dog saw this thing. Maybe it's some kind of dark double of Zack's, something that looks like him but isn't."

"Like a Doppelganger."

"Yeah, it'd sure explain how he was two places at once."

"But if this guy is Zack's Doppelganger—then where the hell is he?"

"No idea man."

"Sam, what kind of sandwiches do you want?" Rebecca called.

"Uhh—whatever you make Rebecca," Sam said.

"How about I'll leave the stuff out and you can make what you like?"

"They're boys, they'll eat anything," Elle muttered to herself.

"Sam, please?" Rebecca called once more.

"Coming!" Sam called back.

Sam motioned toward the kitchen with his eyes to Dean. Dean stomach growled at just the right moment because he agreed to go into the kitchen with Sam and Rebecca—leaving Elle alone with the tape. Elle looked over her shoulder to make sure that her brothers were gone before hit the play button and then the fast-forward button. They said that the murder occurred around 10:30, so Elle continued the tape until Zack showed up again and the police showed up. She kept it running until Zack came back outside with the police. Zack looked to the camera once more—but his eyes were completely normal. They weren't silver like they were the last time.

"Find something?" Dean asked with his mouth full of food.

Elle pretended to ignore Dean as she rewound the tape and then played it again to make it look like she was still looking for something. She knew that Dean would be the first one on her trail—so, she needed to throw him off a bit while she put the pieces of the puzzle together. She rewound and fast-forwarded again before faking a groan of frustration. After that, she stood up as Dean watched her while he chewed. She walked into the kitchen to make a sandwich—she still couldn't process what to make of the clues; but she knew that they fit together. After they finished their sandwiches and beers, the Winchesters headed to their motel. To avoid any conversations with her brothers, Elle headed straight for the bathroom instead of claiming a bigger bed as her own. She started to fill the bathtub with water because taking a bath should waste plenty of time. For the first time in days, she seemed to relax as she slipped into the bathtub and let the water spill over her. As she sat there, trying to clear her mind everything seemed to snap into place. If the Zack who had gone into the house had silver eyes—he had to have left at some point because he wasn't there when they had been there. Then there were the specks of blood on the back door. The thing had slipped out the backdoor—meaning that there was somewhere out the back for him to go. Elle quickly got out of the bathtub and got dressed. She let her damp hair hang down, causing it to dry curly as she threw on a pair of baggy sweatpants, tank top, and a hooded zip-up sweatshirt. When she got into the motel room, she found Dean watching her as she went for her blue Converse sneakers.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked.

Instead of answering him, she just struggled to slip her shoes on without untying them first. After a few moments of struggling, she finally had both shoes on and she headed toward the door. She slipped her bag with a few supplies over her shoulder.

"Tell me or I'll follow you," Dean said blocking her path.

"Out. Happy?" Elle said narrowing her eyes.

"Just bring back some pie."

Elle rolled her eyes at Dean before she stepped past him and walked out of the motel room into the night. She decided to walk to Zack's place so that she wouldn't leave an easy trail for Dean to follow. She walked a couple miles until she got to the place when she headed to the back of the house and the deck. If she had been paying more attention, she would have seen the blood trail leading to a back alley. But then the blood trail ended with a smeared bloody handprint on a telephone pole. The light in the alley flickered briefly—that was definitely a sign. She had to be getting close. Normally, at this point she would make sure to get a hold of Dean or Sam; but right now she couldn't be bothered to do so. Right now she needed to prove that she wasn't simply a tool used to ruin their lives. She needed to prove her worth. She exhaled slowly if she were a monster where would she go. Fly—but that wasn't a likely option. Run—but there was no blood splatter. That left hiding and the only decent place to hide was the sewer and there was easy access to it because of the manhole cover only a few feet away.

She pulled the flashlight out of her bag after she moved the manhole cover out of the way. This probably wasn't her smartest idea—but she needed to know that her existence wasn't pointless. She climbed the ladder down into the sewer, breathing heavily. Her mind argued with her that she should do this during daylight—but it's not like it would add any light to the place. With her flashlight she examined the place as she went farther into the tunnel. A wretched smell seemed to waft from a distance—so naturally, Elle continued toward the stench. She nearly vomited upon the pile of blood and skin she found on the ground. She examined it more by getting down on her haunches and shining the flashlight directly on it. What the hell kind of thing did this? Elle dug in her book bag before she pulled out her father's journal that she had snitched when Sam and Dean weren't looking. She flipped through the pages until she found something—a shapeshifter. Damnit. This thing wasn't supposed to be a vile creature that could take on any appearance; but if there was one thing she had learned from John Winchester was that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it was—a silver bullet to the heart was one sure-fire way to kill it. She shoved the journal back into her bag before she reached into the side pocket for her gun loaded with silver bullets. But out of nowhere a hand with a cloth covered her mouth and next thing Elle knew she faded into blackness.

When Elle awoke, she was quite groggy but she immediately knew that she had shackles on her wrist and was chained to the ceiling. She tried to move but she could only take a few steps before being pulled back by the chains. She tried anything to slip her tiny wrists through the shackles, but given the angle she was at—nothing seemed to work. She screamed and it echoed through the sewer. Elle tried again to get loose, but that once again proved pointless. She saw that her sweatshirt had been removed and discarded into a corner. Elle bit her lip before she shouted for help.

"That's not going to help you," a voice came from the shadows.

"Who's there?" Elle hissed.

"A friend."

"Some friend you are. You sure know how make a first impression."

"You are a feisty one. It's what attracted me to you—among other things."

"You know nothing about me."

"That is where you are wrong—Campbell Winchester."

"So you know who I am. Big deal. You should at least return the niceties and let me see who you are. Show yourself."

There was a dark chuckle before an Asian looking guy stepped into the light.

"I know—not what you're expecting. This is only—temporary," the guy said as his eyes momentarily flashed silver. "We'll find something more suitable."

"Why do you care what I think?" Elle scoffed.

"Because Elle-Belle, I have chosen you."

"First of all—there are only two people in the world that can get away with calling me that and you aren't one of them. Second of all—what have I been chosen for?"

"I mustn't spoil the happy ending."

"In case you haven't noticed I'm miserable and according to my father's journal your kind is supposed to pick up on that."

"What do you mean, my kind?"

"I know what you are, you ass. You're a shapeshifter. So I suggest that if you're going to kill me, you'd better get it over with before my two big brothers kick your ass."

"Sam and Dean? I think you've taken care of them for a while. They aren't going to come looking—at least not yet and I'm not going to kill you."

"What the hell do you want then?"

"You."

"You have me. So can we call it even and I can leave?"

"You misunderstand me. You see there are two things I crave in this world: friendship and acceptance. You, are the key to my success with both."

"I will never be friends with an abomination like you. You see—there's this thing called trust and you broke it and once you lose my trust you can never get it back."

"Then we'll just have to go for acceptance."

The shapeshifter came up to Elle and ran his finger down her jawline and neck. She attempted to bite at him but he only chuckled at her.

"I know about your family—daughter of John Winchester. Uniting the bloodlines should solve many of my problems."

"You mean, like a baby? Procreate with you? Are you friggin crazy? First of all, my father cares nothing for me, let alone would he care for some abomination spawn of mine. He'd probably kill the thing the first chance he got. Second of all—I'm not that easy."

"Sure, I'd be on the run from your father—but word would spread. Knowing that a Winchester was involved would get other enemies off my back for fear of having to deal with John Winchester."

"Do you actually think before you speak? Your plan is the stupidest thing I have ever heard of."

"I can see now that you will prove to be a challenge—but in time, you will grow to care for me—and our children."

"Stockholm Syndrome is so Beauty and the Beast. Can't you at least come up with something original?

"Now, now—I'll play nice if you play nice."

"I'm a Winchester—we don't play nice with others."

"Naughty it is then."

The shifter chuckled a throatily before he lowered Elle's arms. They were still in the shackles, but she could finally at least feel the blood running back through her arms. Elle shivered as the shifter played with the straps of her tank top and bra—he pushed them down over her shoulders. She wanted to gag as he pressed his lips against her collarbone. She felt so helpless at that moment as tears began to sting at her eyes. If only she could reach her bag and grab her gun and shoot the thing. The shifter then forced his lips on hers in a sloppy kiss. She tried to fight him, but his tongue pushed his way into her mouth. Silver—she needed silver. As he kissed her—she remembered her mother's bracelet. Slowly, she lifted her arms in the air. Elle then slammed her wrist with her silver angel charm bracelet onto the shifter's face. He screamed in agony as he broke his lips away from Elle's. She then spit in his face before she kicked him right in the crotch. Breathing heavily she scowled at the shifter. The shifter's expression soured as he slowly backed away from Elle.

"Looks like we're going to have to do this the hard way."

"How about we just don't do this?"

"I think some collateral will help you with your decision. Until then—we can't have you getting any ideas."

The shifter hoisted Elle's arms back over her head. She tried to pull her wrist with the bracelet back toward the shifter; but it was no use. He only chuckled at her futile attempts. For a second he stopped to examine the object that had burned at his face. He then looked Elle in the eye and scoffed.

"Your guardian angel isn't going to help you now."

"No, but my brothers will. Just wait. They're going to come and then they're going to kick your ass—kill you—and then kick your ass all over again."

"I wouldn't be so sure, Elle-Belle."

The monster smirked before his body began to twist in odd ways—ways that a human should never be able to move. Soon bits and pieces of the Asian man began to fall to the floor. First a few teeth, then an ear—Elle had to look away for a while; but when she opened her eyes she was absolutely horrified to see herself standing right in front of her. The shifter Elle took the sweatshirt from the floor and the sweatpants from real Elle's body. Shifter Elle spun around in a circle.

"What'd you think?"

"I think Sam and Dean are going to see right through you."

"Nah—I'll bring Dean back his pie and we'll be all good."

"You know about the pie?"

"Of course. Nothing about you is a secret from me anymore. Now I really should get going before they decide to come after you—I mean-me. Don't wait up and make yourself at home."

"You effing bastard."

Elle saw herself smirk at her and wave at her—which was completely mind-boggling before she—well, the shifter version of herself escaped into the darkness. Sam and Dean were just about to go out in search of their baby sister when she walked into the motel room with a plastic bag. She shut the door behind her and placed her hands on her hips.

"God, you have no idea how many places I had to go before I found some place open with pie," Elle said.

"Huh—I thought you'd try and piss me off and not actually bring any pie," Dean responded.

"I've thought about what you both said—and you're right. From now on—it will be like I'm a brand new Elle."

"That was easy. We should do good cop/ bad cop to her more often, Sammy."

Dean then yanked the bag with the pie from Elle's hands before he practically inhaled the apple pie. Elle walked right for the rollaway bed without any notion of complaint. Sam looked at her oddly for a moment to which Elle flashed him a smile before she crawled into the bed. Elle closed her eyes—pretending to be asleep so that Sam and Dean would talk about her and she could figure out whether they were any wiser about the situation. Just as she had predicted, ten minutes into her fake sleep, Sam and Dean began talking about her.

"Girls—they're confusing, man," Dean muttered.

"It's like she just flipped the switch while she was out," Sam responded.

"Good thing—I was getting tired of quietly bitchy Elle."

"Yeah, that's probably my least favorite Elle—you don't know where you stand with her when she won't talk to you."

"Don't have to worry about that anymore."

Dean chuckled before he turned out the light and he and Sam quickly went to sleep. Dawn was barely cracking through the curtains when Sam attempted to drag both his siblings out of bed. He went to Dean first because he knew it was going to take a second attempt to get him up out of bed at this time of day. After his first attempt to get Dean up, Sam moved over to his baby sister who was sleeping on the rollaway bed. He sat on the bed beside her and started to gently shake her.

"Elle, get up. We gotta go check something out,' Sam said shaking his sister.

"What time is it?" Elle groaned.

"Time for you to get a watch."

"That joke wasn't funny when I was seven and it's not funny now."

"I seem to remember you liking it."

"I was faking. Believe me, I would know."

Sam shook his head and patted his sister on her legs before he went back to wake Dean up again. Finally, at about 5:30 a.m. Sam, Dean, and Elle were back at Zack's house; but this time they were checking out the back. Elle sat on the trunk of the Impala while Dean leaned against it beside her with a cup of coffee in his hands. He complained about being there so friggin early—but Sam had finally come to the same realization that the real Elle had come to—the killer came in, but never out. Sam found the blood trail and followed it to a telephone pole. He found the blood.

"Somebody came this way," Sam announced.

"It was probably just some homeless guy without a band-aid," Elle retorted.

"That's a lot of blood for something like that."

"Either way the trail ends," Dean finished. "I don't see anything else around here."

Just then an ambulance drove past them. Winchesters didn't believe in coincidence, so they followed the ambulance. When they got to the place where the ambulance stopped, they saw an Asian man walking out of the house in handcuffs toward a police car. Dean asked a nearby woman what happened and apparently, the guy tried to kill his wife. He tied her up and beat her. Coincidence? Sam certainly didn't think so—especially after the woman said that something like this seemed out of character for him. The Winchesters hung around outside until the place cleared up a bit before they started examining the outside of the house. Elle hung by Sam, looking at the garbage cans—doing anything to try and reason him out of this being a job. She knew that Sam was the one she had to convince. After they found nothing, they walked to the front of the house where Dean came out to meet them.

"Remember when I said this wasn't our kind of problem?" Dean said.

"Yeah," Sam responded.

"Definitely our kind of problem."

"What? There's no evidence to prove that," Elle argued.

"Well, you weren't around when I talked to the patrolman. Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked."

"So, he was two places at once," Sam said. "Two dark doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way—"

"Could be the same thing doin' it too."

"Or it could be just a coincidence," Elle suggested.

"Since when have you been one for coincidence?"

"Since the only reason we're here instead of Bisbee is because you let Sammy get the better of you and you're doing it again. You both are seeing things that aren't there."

"And what about that time in Savannah? I went out on a limb for you with Dad and you proved to be right. So don't get pissed off that I'm helping Sammy when I did the same thing for you."

"If we're going out on limbs then, what do you suggest it is?"

"Shapeshifter?" Sam answered. "Something that can make itself look like anyone."

"Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore—creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men," Dean responded.

"Right, skinwalkers, werewolves."

"Really? That's your great theory?" Elle scoffed.

"We've got two attacks within blocks of each other," Dean said. "There's gotta be a friggin shifter prowlin' the neighborhood. Unless you got something better."

"Well, tell me this then—in any of the shapeshifter lore, have they been able to fly? Because from where I'm standing the trail runs cold. Just like it did at Zack's house."

"Then there's got to be something we're missing," Sam said.

"There is—" Dean said. "There's another way to go—down."

Elle's eyes widened—these boys were a lot smarter than Elle gave them credit for. Of course, now looking back on things much of what she said was done in sarcasm. Dean moved the manhole cover and motioned for his sister to come closer. Elle rather reluctantly moved toward Dean. They were on her trail—but this was certainly going to make the next part of her plan much easier which involved splitting the brothers up. Dean moved to hand Elle a silver knife—but she refused to take it. He looked at her in confusion because Elle never appreciated going into these situations unarmed. Usually she said that if she was going to be the bait—she should at least be armed bait. He shrugged as Sam climbed down first, followed by Elle, before he went down last. Elle seemed to wander down the sewer—as if she were leading them to something. Sam and Dean simply followed after her—Elle rarely took initiative in these situations. Elle walked a ways before she stopped and gagged. Sam and Dean both halted suddenly giving each other looks of disgust. There on the ground was a pile of blood and skin.

"Is this from his victims?" Sam asked.

Dean bent over and poked at the pile on the ground with the silver dagger he had earlier offered Elle.

"You know—I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds," Dean said.

"That is disgusting," Sam responded.

"I suppose a little better housekeeping wouldn't hurt, now would it?" Elle said.

The Winchesters headed back to the Impala for supplies. Elle made sure to take the flashlight before Dean or Sam tried to give her anything else. Sam and Dean both took guns which they loaded with silver bullets. Elle eyed them, but made sure to keep her distance. Dean kept a suspicious eye on her.

"Well, one thing I learned from Dad, is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there's one sure way to kill it."

"Silver bullet to the heart," Sam responded.

"Decapitation works too," Elle taunted.

"How do you know that?" Dean asked.

"I hear things."

"Well, we're going with what we know for fact. Silver to the heart. Now, let's do this."

Sam's phone rang—apparently, it was Rebecca calling him and she was pissed. She found out that Dean wasn't actually a detective in Bisbee. Sam tried to plead with her; but it was pointless. She hung up on him and Dean started the I told you so speech to Sam. Lecturing him about how life would be easier if he didn't have any strings attached. Sam didn't say anything; he just kept his jaw set as Dean laid into him verbally. When Dean was done he led his siblings back down into the sewer—but this time they were armed. Dean looked to his brother and sister before he suggested that they split up. Sam would go one way while he and Elle would go another direction. No one seemed to argue with this, so Dean and Elle headed down one path. Elle held the flashlight as Dean aimed the gun. He glanced over at Elle holding the flashlight—and there was something missing from her wrist.

"I think we're close to its lair," Dean said.

"What makes you say that?" Elle questioned.

"Because there's another puke-inducing above your head."

Elle shined the flashlight above her head and had almost no reaction to it. She then pulled her hair back behind her ears. That was a dead giveaway. His Elle would have given some snarky comment or gagged at the sight.

"Elle-Belle, where's your bracelet?" Dean asked.

"What bracelet?" Elle scoffed.

"Mom's bracelet. The one I gave to you."

"Oh—I—uh—left it in the car for safe-keeping. Didn't want to lose it."

"Huh—okay."

"Yeah—whatever, Dean."

"You know—if I didn't know any better, it seems to me like you've been avoiding touching anything made of silver. Not to mention that you've been acting friggin weird today. I just didn't want to say anything in front of Sammy."

"You're crazy."  
"Am I? Grab this knife then and prove it."

"You're being stupid. I don't have to prove anything to you."

"Do it—or I'm gonna do this the hard way."

"What is it with you Winchesters and the hard way?"

"You son-of-a-bitch."

The sounds of a struggle echoed through the sewer. Elle's head shot-up at the noise. Had Sam and Dean finally figured things out and were on their way to rescue her? So going off on her own was pretty stupid and while she had been avoiding her brothers the past few days, she wanted nothing more than to see them. It was probably her friggin girly emotions clouding her judgment—but being tied-up on an empty stomach gave one plenty of time to think. Suddenly, Dean walked out of the shadows. Elle gasped before she smiled at him.

"Dean! You have no idea how glad I am to see you! Get me out of this!"

"Wrong Dean, Princess—but I'm quite flattered you think I got him down." The shifter said.

"Where's my brother?"

"Hanging around. I must confess—from what you told me, I thought he would have proved much harder to take down. He's so—trusting of you. I don't think he even understands it; but you're the one person in the world who just seems to get him—accept him for who he is and isn't afraid to call him out when he's being a dick. He likes that about you. Then again—there's a crap ton of things he doesn't like about you too."

"Shut up."

"Like that for example. As witty as you are—you come up with shut up? We're going to have to work on your comebacks. Dean thinks so too."

"You know nothing about my brother."

"Are you sure about that? I've got all the answers you are looking for right up here." The shifter said tapping his head.

"You're full of shit."

"Still so disagreeable. I would have thought that taking the brother I assumed you were closest to would have changed your mind. Maybe you need further persuasion."

"Stay the hell away from Sam."

"Now where would the fun in that be?"

"I swear—when I'm through with you—"

"I'd like to see you try, sweetheart."

Half an hour later, Dean came running into the lair. He immediately ran to Elle and took hold of the chains. She was hopeful he was going to release her, but she soon realized it wasn't her Dean again as he began to chuckle darkly.

"You Winchesters are not the challenge I thought you'd be," Shifter Dean said. "All three of you went down so easily."

"Sorry to disappoint," Elle said sarcastically.

"You should be—I had such big plans for us."

"Had?"

"Let's just say I've moved on to someone more my type."

"And what is that? Pathetic?"

"How would Sammy feel to have you talking about his friend like that?"

"Stay away from Rebecca. She's innocent in all of this. Just—just let me say goodbye to my brothers and I—I'll do whatever it is you want."

"Do you really think I'm that stupid?"

"I hoped so."

"You forget that I know you. I know you better than yourself. I was you. I know how you loathe yourself—"

"Just kill me already if that's what you're going to do!"

"That would be too kind. No, I think I'm going to let you simmer a bit and then we'll play later."

Dean left her. Elle then mustered all the strength she could to scream for her brothers. If the shifter had captured them, they had to be down in the sewer somewhere—but her voice was too hoarse from screaming earlier. Her scream sounded pathetic. Tears began to roll down her cheeks. She knew she was acting pathetic—but right now there was no hope. Sam and Dean's first instinct, should they somehow get out, would be to help the innocent—not her and she couldn't blame them. It was the right thing to do. Elle's ears suddenly perked. She could hear Sam and Dean talking. She tried to call for them—but her voice was so weak. Of all the times to lose her voice—it had to be when she was being held captive and her brothers were so very close. Their voices then began to fade away. She cried for them to come back—but before she could muster any strength to call to them louder, she faded into blackness. Next thing she knew, she was having water splashed on her face.

"I'm back—" Dean said.

"Go away," Elle muttered. "I was trying to sleep."

"I was going to give you one last chance to say goodbye to your brothers before I kill them—but with that attitude, forget it."

"Sam and Dean know all about you now. It's your funeral."

"But I also know them. You should be begging for their lives right now and instead you chose to get snarky. I'll let them know that you had the chance to have them spared right before I kill them. They'll die knowing you signed their death sentence. Try living with that guilt."

Shifter Dean then disappeared. After what seemed like hours later, Elle felt herself growing tired—but Dean's voice began to call for her. Was she dreaming? Was it shifter Dean? She wanted to break down in tears again. She was hungry—sore—tired—the list could go on and on. But then suddenly, Dean was no longer calling for her. Either something distracted him or she made the whole thing up. Time continued to pass by and Elle hung there—breathing heavily. Suddenly, everything began to shake. What was going on? Somehow, the shackles on her wrist clicked open, freeing her and the iron gate flung open. For a moment, Elle stood there unsure of what to do. What the hell? Elle quickly returned her arms to her sides, rubbing her wrists where the skin was raw from having been shackled. She wasn't exactly sure what happened or how they came open; but she didn't have time to question it. No, she had to go save Sam and Deans asses from the effing shifter. While she sure as hell felt guilty for practically ruining her lives, she couldn't bear the thought of being the reason they died. Besides, she had a score to settle with that shifter.

Elle ran as fast as she could to Rebecca's place—despite being weak; but she wouldn't let her weakness be the reason Sam and Dean died. She had made sure to grab her bag that shifter had carelessly discarded in the corner. It was her only hope at getting the son-of-a-bitch. When she got to Rebecca's, the door was already opened. She ran inside and found Sam and Rebecca unconscious on the floor—while Dean stood on top of Dean, choking him with his foot, while the other Dean reached for the gun a few feet away. Both Deans looked at her in confusion. Elle then pulled the gun out of her bag and aimed it at the Dean standing before she pulled the trigger twice straight in the heart. The shifter's eyes flashed silver for a brief moment before he fell backward onto the floor. Elle walked over to the shifter and aimed the gun at him once more.

"I might be a damsel in distress at times, but don't forget I'm the one who came back and kicked your ass, you effing bastard." Elle hissed standing over the shapeshifter's dead body and just for added measure, she shot the gun two more times.

All the gunshots caused Sam to come to again and Dean moved to a sitting position holding his throat.

"What the hell was that about?" Dean hissed. "Overkill much?"

"How often am I going to get the chance to shoot and kill you?" Elle retorted.

"She's been so bitchy lately I can't tell if she's joking or serious."

"So what if I'm a bitch sometimes? Throw anybody with you two for an extended amount of time and they won't last half as long as I do."

"How did you know which one to shoot?" Sam asked.

"Dean would obviously go for the gun instead of attempting to choke a shifter to death with his foot. It was common sense. Anyone could have done it."

Dean nodded his head but voiced his appreciation to his little sister before he stood up and walked over to the where the shifter's body lay. He yanked his necklace from the shifter. Elle smirked as she absently ran her fingers across her bracelet.—the thing at least couldn't touch her precious jewelry. Rebecca finally came back to the light of day—despite having a killer headache from where the shifter smashed her head with a lamp. Sam, Dean, and Elle went back to the motel while Rebecca called the police to remove the body from her home. Once Elle got the motel, she showered and then devoured any junk food in sight. When her brothers realized how hungry she was, they ordered a pizza. Sam made sure to go pick it up—seeing as Dean really couldn't show his face in the town anymore. Dean even gave up his queen-sized bed for his little sister as she lay on it, eating her pizza.

"So, what happened to you?" Dean asked sitting on Sam's bed.

"Do we really have to talk about it?" Elle asked.

"What do you think?"

"I—I went off on my own—because I wanted to prove that I'm not just a waste of space."

"When did we ever say you were a waste of space?"

"You didn't—but Bloody Mary got me thinking—"

"That's your biggest problem right there. You let a monster get to you."

"Are you going to let me finish or not?"

"Go ahead, Dean will shut up now," Sam answered for Dean, covering Dean's mouth with his hands.

"The shifter kept me locked and chained up. You guys actually walked past me in the sewer."

"Some brothers we are," Dean scoffed.

"I don't blame you. You didn't know I was down there. But the weirdest part was how I got away. First there was the earthquake—And then next thing I knew my shackles were broken and the gate flew open."

"Earthquake?" Dean asked. "I think you must have been delirious."

"Yeah, Elle, that stuff doesn't just happen. Maybe you found some strength buried deep within or something," Sam suggested.

"I'm serious guys. I didn't do anything. It just happened. Besides, if I had been so delirious do you really think I would have been able to kill that shifter?"

"Well, whatever happened, that was pretty badass, Elle," Sam said trying to diffuse any tension.

"And terrifying. I never want to be at the other end of your gun again," Dean said.

"Well, technically you weren't," Sam argued.

"Yes, I was."

It was finally time for the Winchesters to pull out of town. Things would be much better for Dean—who was apparently to be buried the next day. The Winchesters made sure to take one final swing by Rebecca's house to say goodbye—well, so that Sam could say goodbye. Elle leaned against the car watching Sam and Rebecca's exchange. She had to admit—she wanted friends still; but given how often her life was in peril, she knew better than to add an innocent into this mess. Rebecca hugged Sam before she called out to Elle. Elle pointed to herself in confusion before she walked over to Rebecca.

"I wish we could have actually gotten to know each other. Really, from the way Sam described you—you seemed pretty cool," Rebecca said.

"He likes to exaggerate," Elle said.

"I know you really don't know me—but I know Sam and I trust his judgment. So if you ever need anything, just let me know. Honestly, I know what it's like to put up with an annoying brother—and you've got two of them."

"Thanks, I'm not really sure how to respond."

Rebecca didn't say anything; she just hugged Elle before she walked with Sam and Elle to the car. Elle climbed into the backseat of the Impala as Rebecca waved goodbye to them. With a sigh, Elle waved back. Dean pulled the car into drive and once again, they were on their way to a new city, a new monster—you know, the usual.

"You know, I gotta say—I'm sorry I'm gonna miss it."

"Miss what?" Sam asked.

"How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?"

"I can always make special arrangements," Elle retorted.

Dean smirked at his little sister in the mirror. For some reason, she was back to normal, if he could really call it that; but what he also knew was that at some point Elle was going to snap again. He would have to make sure that he was there for her though—because as tough as his little sister was—he wasn't sure that she would be able to handle another break like that.


	8. Hook Man

Elle slowly walked down the sidewalk with her arms wrapped around her midsection and had sunglasses covering her eyes. She had a pounding headache from being hung-over from a night of heavy drinking the night before. She may have had a few one too many with Sam and Dean last night—honestly, she couldn't remember what she drank or why they had even been drinking, yet here she was. She supposed she was only twenty-one for one year of her life. Besides, this was supposed to be the year she made all those drunken mistakes—but so far, her biggest mistake was getting up this morning because Dean told her to get her ass down to an outdoor café where he and Sam were getting breakfast and doing research. This was as much of a walk of shame as she was getting—and Dean knew it too. She could easily read the smirk on his face as Elle slowly walked closer to him. She tripped over a chair, but quickly caught herself. Inwardly, she groaned. She knew that Dean was going to blame that little incident on her being hung-over, but honestly, it probably had more to do with her natural clumsiness—but Dean was going to get much more entertainment on the former observation. Elle finally made her way over to an empty chair at the table where Dean was working on his laptop.

"Not so much as a word," Elle groaned. "Or I swear I will kill you."

"That's so last week," Dean teased.

"Are you ever going to drop that?"

"You killed me without so much as a second glance."

"It was a shapeshifter—not you."

"Looked like me."

"My head hurts too much to argue anymore."

"I'll have to remember to get you drunk more often."

"How much did I drink?"

"You really wanna know?"

"Probably not."

"That's what I thought—which is why I'm going to tell you—"

"Dean—please don't."

"So you don't want to hear that I was a nice brother and I ordered you a plate of scrambled eggs and some sissy coffee drink?"

"I take back everything terrible I've ever said about you."

Dean chuckled as the hot waitress came outside with Elle's order and set it down in front of her. The waitress had hardly even finished setting down Elle's food before the hung-over Winchester picked a piece of toast from the plate and shoveled it into her mouth while Dean snuck something into her coffee. Elle then picked up her fork and stabbed her eggs with her fork before a rather large piece was shoved into her mouth. Her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunks. Dean shook his head before he leaned across the table and snatched Elle's sunglasses off her face. Elle immediately squinted and shielded her eyes with her hands; but Dean didn't miss how bloodshot her eyes were—which gave him a good laugh. She swatted at him with her free hand to get her sunglasses back. Just then, Sam walked up behind Dean and snitched the sunglasses right out of his brother's hands before he put them on his own face.

"How do I look?" Sam asked.

"Just give them back," Elle whined.

"Someone's grouchy."

"I'm hung-over—what do you expect?"

"They do say the first step to recovery is admitting it," Dean chuckled.

"Dean, you think we need to stage an intervention for Elle-Belle?" Sam asked.

"You two are hilarious," Elle hissed before she gave up on getting her sunglasses back and focused her attention on shoveling as much food into her mouth as she could.

"So, anything?" Dean asked.

"No. I had 'em check the FBI's Missing Persons Database. No John Doe's fitting Dad's description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations. Nothing," Sam responded.

"Sam, I'm tellin' ya, I don't think Dad wants to be found."

"I thought that much was already obvious," Elle said between bites. "I mean—he's not answering our phone calls or—"

"Well, we need to find the man," Sam said.

"You mean you need to find him. I'm perfectly content avoiding him for the unforeseeable future."

"How about a change of subject," Dean suggested before he turned the laptop toward Sam. "Check this out. It's a news item out of Planes Courier, Ankeny, Iowa. It's only about a hundred miles from here."

"'The mutilated body was found near the victim's car, parked on 9 Mile Road—" Sam read.

"C'mon, I'm eating. Is right now really the time?" Elle complained.

"Keep reading," Dean urged.

"'Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible.' How the hell do you find this stuff?" Sam finished reading

"Could be something interesting."

"Do you have to keep talking?" Elle groaned.

"Or it could be nothing at all. One freaked out witness who didn't see anything? Doesn't mean it's the Invisible Man," Sam said after Elle.

"But what if it is? Dad would check it out," Dean argued.

"Oh god, I think I'm gonna be sick," Elle muttered before she ran to the nearest trash can and puked into it.

Dean laughed at his little sister. Sam looked at Dean and immediately knew there was more to the story.

"What did you do?" Sam asked.

"I may have added a special ingredient to her coffee," Dean said with a wink patting the pocket on his coat.

"You're terrible," Sam chuckled.

"She's gotta learn the hard way."

"I'm so glad I was at Stanford when I was twenty-one."

"I can always make up it up to you. Besides, if you think this is bad—you should've seen her twenty-first birthday."

"No, no thank you. I'll head back to the motel and get things packed up."

"We'll be there in twenty."

Elle hurled again into the trashcan. Both Sam and Dean turned away cringing as a waitress ran over to Elle to make sure she was okay.

"Better make that thirty," Dean said with a grin.

"How about I just pick you both up," Sam said shaking his head.

Thirty minutes later, Sam parked the Impala beside the outdoor café. Dean and Elle walked toward the car—Dean with a big smirk on his face and Elle looking miserable with her sunglasses back on her face. Sam shook his head—his poor baby sister—but he did have to admit that it was funny as hell watching her agony. Dean knocked on the driver's side window and motioned for Sam to get out. As Sam switched sides of the car, Elle practically fell into the backseat on her stomach. Dean slid into the driver's seat and then smirked at Sam.

"You know what Sammy—I think I'm in the mood for some heavy metal."

Dean turned the stereo onto full blast. Elle screamed before she buried her head under her pillow. Sam got a laugh and then turned the music down, despite Dean's complaints. After a few minutes of silence, snores began to come from the backseat. Dean and Sam laughed at how quickly Elle was able to get back to sleep. Sleep was probably the best thing for her—that or aspirin, which Dean maybe have intentionally hid with the rock salt in the trunk. When Elle finally woke up, Dean had just finished explaining the plan to Sam for the second time. Elle slowly sat up and rubbed at her face. Apparently her brothers were joining a fraternity or something like that—she couldn't quite comprehend what they were planning. Thankfully, the only part she needed to understand was "stay in the car." That was easy enough. As Sam and Dean got out of the car, Elle plopped her head back onto her pillow and went back to sleep. Sam and Dean found their sister softly snoring when they got back into the car after finding another lead from a guy named Murph. Dean looked back at Elle and shook his head before he put the car into drive before they headed to their next destination: church. He parked Baby on the street near the church. Sam reached back to shake Elle, but Dean stopped his younger brother.

"You know we could just wake her up normally," Sam suggested.

"But where would the fun be in that?" Dean grinned.

"Dean."

"Fine, I'll wake her up normally—but I'm still gonna have some fun."

Sam sighed as Dean leaned back and gently shook his sister, causing the sunglasses she was still wearing to fall off. Elle groaned for five more minutes of sleep.

"He's calling you," Dean said with a smirk to Sam pointing upward.

"Who Dad?" Elle groaned with her eyes still closed.

"You can call him that—if that's what you're in to."

"Well, you can tell him he can go to hell."

"Hey, hey—he's listening."

"I'm so confused."

"We're going to church, Elle," Sam chuckled. "Dean's just giving you hel—uh—crap."

"Really? You chose now of all times, when I'm hung-over, to find religion? You would do something like that."

"Hell no!" Dean exclaimed. "But that does sound like something I would do to mess with you. I'll have to remember that."

"It's for the case," Sam explained. "We're looking for a girl named Lori Sorensen. She's the unidentified witness."

"I'm failing to understand why that means we have to go to church," Elle said, squinting her eyes at her brothers.

"Her dad's the reverend and it's Sunday—so we kinda figured she'd be here."

Elle groaned as she forced herself into a sitting position before she realized that she had to bend over again to grab her sunglasses. After her sunglasses were once again on her face, she got out of the Impala. She knew that she was severely underdressed for a church service in her ripped jeans, flannel shirt, zippered hoodie, and blue Converse; but Sam and Dean weren't any more formal than she was—so she'd go for that. Sam opened the door and held it open for Dean and Elle to pass through before he walked in. Sam accidentally let the door slam behind him loudly while the reverend was talking. Immediately, all eyes from the congregation were on them. So much for not being conspicuous. Elle nervously smiled as she ran her fingers through her messy hair. Dean gave Sam a look before he leaned toward Elle's ear.

"Take your shades off," Dean whispered, trying not to move his lips.

"No," Elle whispered back.

"Just do it. They're staring."

"They're staring because we're late."

Dean snatched the glasses from her face once again.

"Oh God!" Elle shouted before the heads turned back toward her once again. For a second she fumbled to find any words before "is so awesome. Can I get an amen?" came out of her mouth.

There was complete and utter silence in the congregation as they slowly began to turn around with looks of disgust on their faces.

"Apparently, not," Dean whispered before he led his siblings further into the church. "If I was the church-going type, I would have given you an amen. Maybe."

"Guys, can we just sit down?" Sam whispered.

Dean nodded his head toward the reverend as he led Elle and Sam into a pew. A girl looked back at them with a sympathetic glance as the reverend continued to talk about the young man the community lost. Sam smiled weakly at the girl. Elle rested her pounding head on her hands, while her elbows rested on her knees. So the transition to prayer wasn't a difficult one for Elle; but Sam had to elbow Dean to bow his head. The church service seemed to drag on forever for Elle who didn't move from her praying position once the prayer was over. When it was time to go, Sam gently elbowed her causing her head to slip from her hands and slam down onto the back of the pew. Today was definitely not her day. If she learned one thing from going to church—she was never getting drunk with her brothers again. Although, she probably should know better than to tell a big fat lie in church. Once they were outside, they sought out to find Lori. They found her standing in the middle of a group of girls; but the crowd left when the Winchesters drew closer. Lori made eye contact with them and half-smiled.

"Hey—are you Lori?" Sam asked.

"Uh—yeah, that's me," Lori responded.

"My name is Sam," Sam said holding out his hand to shake, which she took. "This is my brother Dean and my sister Elle."

"Hi," Dean said with a wave.

"Hey," Elle muttered, keeping her face down.

"Anyway, we just transferred here to the university," Sam finished.

"I saw you guys inside," Lori said.

"Don't remind me," Elle muttered.

"We don't wanna bother you. We just heard about what happened and…" Sam started.

"We wanted to say how sorry we were," Dean finished.

"We feel really terrible," Elle added.

"Some more than others," Dean said which got him a glare from Elle from behind the sunglasses she had recently reacquired.

"But uh—I kind of know what you're going through. I—I saw someone—get hurt once. It's something you never forget," Sam finished.

Lori slightly nodded her head as her father, Reverend Sorensen walked up to the small group. Elle tried to hide behind Dean as Lori introduced them, but the reverend still managed see her and greet her. Elle gave her best attempt at a smile—despite how fake it felt on her face. Thankfully, Dean pulled the man away—with talk about looking for a church, while Sam began questioning Lori. Right now Elle was practically useless. The only thing she could think about was finding some aspirin—but after this morning, she knew better than to ask Dean for any. So Elle excused herself to go take part of some good ol' fashioned Christian charity—in other words, she went around asking people for aspirin until she found the first person who had a bottle on them. Elle went back into the church to get some water to down the pills. It was weird being inside a church. The Winchesters had never been exactly the religious type—but she still wasn't entirely sure where she stood. On one hand—she didn't really buy that the whole world was created by a random chance of particle colliding. Too much of a coincidence. But if there really was a loving God—why would he create all the things that they hunted? Why would he slap her into such a miserable life? Elle moved back outside and sat down on the steps as she waited for Sam and Dean to finish up their conversations. Sam and Lori were the first to walk over to her. Lori sat beside her and looked at her before she looked to Sam.

"Is she okay?" Lori asked.

"She will be—" Sam said. "She uh—had a late night last night."

"One of those, huh? I've had a few of those myself, but I try to make sure they don't interfere with Sunday mornings. Wouldn't exactly look right if the preacher's daughter came to church hung-over, would it?"

"Really? Sam asked.

"No, I'm just trying to make her feel better."

"I don't normally do this," Elle tried to explain. "My brothers are a bad influence."

"You don't have to do any explaining to me; but if my dad asks—you might want to say that you're a chronic migraine sufferer."

"Preacher's daughter condoning lying—what is this world coming to?" Dean said with a smile on his face as he approached them.

"I—uh—well—" Lori stumbled.

"He's just messing with you," Elle mumbled.

"Oh. Well, it was nice to meet you three; but it looks like my dad is beckoning me. Maybe I'll see you around or something."

"You definitely will be seeing us again," Dean said with a smirk.

Lori walked away and the Winchesters got back in the Impala. They needed to do their research now. The aspirin seemed to finally be kicking in when they got to the library at the university. So, Elle was now a little more useful. Thankfully, the library was supposed to be a quiet place. That meant that Dean couldn't annoy her with any loud and obnoxious noises—at least not for long anyway; but there were plenty of college kids spending their time studying, which Elle assumed that going to the library for them was more of a social than academic thing. Looking around, Elle got why went away to school. This didn't look so bad—it actually looked nice—the whole having friends thing and all; but Elle was careful not to make any eye contact with them before she found herself getting carried away into the whole college lifestyle. Sam led them into the stacks which weren't lit very well—nor was there anyone back there.

"Listen to this—she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car," Sam said.

"Wait, the body was suspended? That sounds like—" Dean started.

"The Hook Man legend?" Elle asked. "Really? Hook Man?"

"She's starting to sound like Shifter Elle," Dean commented.

"You've been an ass to me all day, can you stop?"

"Shifter Elle does make a fair point. You can't honestly think that we're dealing with one of the most famous urban legends ever, can you?"

"Please?" Elle groaned.

"Well—since you asked so nicely, I'll consider it."

"Getting back on track—" Sam said. "Every urban legend has a source—you know, the place where it all began."

"And little ol' middle of nowhere Iowa is the start of it?" Elle scoffed.

"We've looked into less."

"Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures and the invisible killer?" Dean asked.

"Well, maybe the Hook Man isn't actually a man at all. What if it's some kind of spirit?" Sam countered.

"Oh joy, another body to go dig up," Elle said sarcastically.

"We've got some work to do."

After talking to the librarian, Elle, Sam, and Dean found a table to sit at. Ten minutes later, the librarian dropped a few big boxes off in front of them. Inside the boxes were all the arrest records going back to 1851. Dean blew some dust off the box right into Elle's face causing her to start coughing. Dean thanked the librarian before she walked away as Elle finished her coughing fit. Elle pulled a box closer toward her and began looking through it. Sam did the same. Dean looked at them both and shook his head.

"So Sammy, this is how you spent four good years of your life, huh?" Dean asked with an eyebrow raised at the box.

"Welcome to higher education," Sam responded.

"I don't think you missed out on much, Elle-Belle."

"You really don't want to go there right now," Elle said darkly raising an eyebrow toward her brother.

Dean nodded his head in agreement. He must have decided that he had given his little sister enough crap for the time being. Hours later they were still researching and Elle's head began to ache again. Elle researched her bag for the bottle of aspirin she usually kept in it; but she still couldn't seem to find it. Maybe Sam or Dean had used it and just didn't put it back in her bag. She rubbed at her face and the turned to her brothers.

"Have you guys seen the aspirin?" Elle asked.

"Dean mixed it with the rock salt," Sam said casually while picking up another report.

"C'mon man, why'd you ruin it?" Dean groan.

"Dean, you loser. You're such an ass. And you—why didn't you stop him?" Elle finished toward Sam.

"I didn't actually see him do it. I actually did the nice thing by telling you," Sam countered.

Elle stood up to go, knowing that she wasn't going to be any help without the aspirin. She had moved no more than a few feet when Sam called her back. Reluctantly, she trudged back to the table and plopped down in her chair, holding her head in her hands once more.

"This better be worth it," Elle muttered.

"Believe me, it is," Sam responded. "Now check this out. In 1862 there was this preacher named Jacob Karns and he was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes. Uh—read right here—"

"'some of the deceased were found in their beds, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh,'" Elle read. "That's disgusting."

"Well—looks like Elle-Belle is safe. She hasn't committed a sin against the flesh yet," Dean chuckled.

"What would you know about it?" Elle snapped.

"You really think you'd be able to hide something like that from me?"

"Can we just get back to the case?"

"That's a first," Sam chuckled.

"What is?" Elle hissed—thinking he was referring to something about her virginity.

"You getting us back on track. Whoa, don't get so defensive."

"Sorry."

"Get this—" Dean started already back on track and looking at a different page. "The murder weapon? Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook."

"That's not all," Elle added holing up yet another page. "Look where this all happened."

"9 Mile Road."

"Same place where the frat boy was killed," Sam added.

"Nice job, Dr. Venkmen."

"Was that directed toward me or Sam?" Elle asked.

"Doesn't matter, now does it? We've got to get this checked out and get to 9 Mile Road."

By the time they got to 9 Mile Road, the Winchesters were under the cover of darkness. Elle quickly ran back to the trunk and shifted through the rock salt for the aspirin Dean had hidden from her. While she wouldn't technically consider herself hung-over any more, she still had a dull headache from dealing with her brothers. She managed to get a few aspirin in her hands before Dean pushed her out of the way so he could load the rock salt into the rifle. While the salt wouldn't kill the spirit—it would at least deter it, slow it down. Elle took hold of the flashlight because Dean didn't trust her with a gun—even if it was only loaded with rock salt. So, the three Winchesters headed further into the woods. They stopped suddenly to listen—the sounds of twigs snapping and leaves crunching drew closer. Sam raised the gun. Elle turned toward that direction of the suspicious noises. Something didn't add up if it was supposed to be a vengeful spirit. The thing would actually have to be walking…Elle turned the flashlight toward that direction. She couldn't quite make it out…

"Sam just hang on a second—" Elle started.

"It's over there. Over there," Dean interrupted.

"Sam," Elle whispered.

"Just do it," Dean insisted. "Don't be a chicken shit."

Sam cocked the gun and was just about to shoot when a figure came running out from behind the trees. It was the sheriff. He yelled for Sam to put the gun down. Sam quickly did as he was told. Then the man wanted all three Winchesters to put their hands behind their heads—to which the obliged. After that they had to move to their knees and then onto their bellies. Dean shouted that Sam was the one who had the gun as they were laying down—to which both Sam and Elle responded by kicking Dean in the shins. Dean groaned as the sheriff came down and started patting them down. The sheriff cuffed Sam and walked him back to his squad car, leaving Dean and Elle to follow behind in the Impala. Elle chose to wait in the car as Dean bailed Sam out. When the boys finally returned, Dean explained that he talked about how he got Sam's punishment knocked down to only a fine. Only a fine—Elle couldn't help but roll her eyes at that one. Elle was just about to make some sort of snarky comment when several men ran out of the sheriffs' department and into their squad cars. Without even saying anything, with one look—the siblings knew what was coming next. Dean quickly started the car and then they followed the squad cars—where they just happened to end up outside of Lori's sorority with an ambulance parked outside.

"This seems an awfully long ways away from 9 Mile Road for Captain Hook," Elle commented.

"I'm sure the Hook Man is going to appreciate the nickname," Dean said dryly.

"Hey, I'm a safe virgin, remember? It's you who's gotta be looking out."

"Elle does have a good point though—why would he come here?" Sam asked.

"Maybe he's not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe it's about something else," Dean said.

"Well so far there's only one common denominator," Elle said. "Lori."

"Then it looks like we're just going to have to investigate this ourselves."

"How? This place is crawling with cops and you've already introduced us as college students."

"Elle, how do you feel about a little girl time?"

The distraction—again. Why was it that she was always the distraction? Was she really that good at distracting people? She supposed that at least she was more subtle about it than Dean was. Dean was supposed to text her when they were out and safe in the Impala. Elle ran around the car three times—so that she was breathing a little heavier than normal before she started jogging up toward the sorority house. She spotted Lori standing with her father and several officers.

"Lori, is that you?" Elle called

"It's Elle right? What are you doing here?" Lori asked.

"Just out for a jog—you know. What's going on here?"

"It's terrible, Taylor's dead."

"Taylor, oh honey, I'm so sorry."

Elle then did what she assumed came naturally when in this situation. She hugged Lori, awkwardly patting her back during the embrace. But Elle needed to get inside the house—or figure out a way to distract the sheriff. She asked Lori if she could get a drink of water since she had been on a really long jog. Lori didn't say anything as Elle walked into the house. Bingo. The sheriff must have heard her because he practically flew down the stairs. Distraction. That's all she needed to do was distract.

"Young lady, this is a crime scene," a sheriff said walking up to her.

"This is my friend, Elle, Sheriff," Lori said. "She's just thirsty. We'll be out in a sec."

"That doesn't change the fact that she needs to leave. Can't have her messing up my crime scene."

"I know my rights, Sheriff," Elle stated. "Besides, how can I be tampering with a crime scene when it isn't marked as such? Maybe I live here."

"Do you?"

"Well, no—not technically."

"Either you do—or you don't. Which is it?"

"No."

"Then I'm going to have to ask you to leave. You too Lori. Why didn't you go home with your father? You're connected to two murders."

"That's dangerous water you're treading on, sir. You might want to wait to question her until after she has a lawyer present," Elle said. "Lori, I'd advise you not to say anything until—"

"Both of you out. Now."

"Smart choice, Sheriff!"

Elle linked her arm through Lori's and led the girl outside. She hope that gave Sam and Dean enough time to find something—anything. But she was still waiting for the text with the all clear. Lori tried to walk toward her father's car to leave, but Elle saw Sam and Dean running in the background so she hugged Lori again. Elle whispered to her that everything was going to be all right and other words of comfort, which made Lori practically collapse into tears on her shoulder. This made Elle uncomfortable. She didn't know how to handle her own tears—let alone someone else's. So, she stood there awkwardly until Lori released her sniffling. Elle walked Lori to Reverend Sorensen's car and awkwardly waved at him before she headed back to the Impala as they drove away. She found Sam and Dean leaning against the car

"Did you find anything?" Elle asked.

"Yeah—it's gotta be Jacob Karns. We found this symbol inside," Sam said handing Elle a page of their research.

"I must be psychic because I totally predicted digging up a body."

"Well you forgot salting and burning the bones," Dean added.

"It was assumed. So where do we find ol' Jacob Karns?"

"Looks like he was laid to rest in an unmarked grave in Old North Cemetery," Sam said.

"Unmarked? Really? Why can't one of these things just be easy to find? You know, like "x" marks the spot crap. Bing. Bang. Boom. Salt. Burn. Done."

"You're still questioning that after all these years? Have you not learned that nothing in life is easy?" Dean asked.

"Too many negatives negating each other in your sentence for my brain."

"Ok, so what we do know is it's Jacob Karns. But we still don't know where he'll manifest next. Or why," Sam explained.

"I'll take a wild guess about why. I think your little friend Lori has something to do with this," Dean said.

"So now what?" Elle asked.

"Well—first, we should probably go check on those committing sins against the flesh," Dean responded. "I saw a flier for a party at one of the frat houses."

"Can you just say it for what it is? Sex. Just because I'm not having it doesn't mean I don't know the word. Besides, saying sins against the flesh is just creepy."

Dean smirked before he got inside the car and drove them to the party. As soon as they got to the party, Elle had to use the bathroom—of course, they were all occupied. She finally found one that wasn't locked So, despite how embarrassing it was—she had to go badly enough to walk in on a couple going at it. They broke apart at the sight of Elle before they ran out and told Elle not to tell anyone what they had seen. Elle just shrugged with her face aflame before she did what she needed to do. She had told Sam and Dean to wait for her outside the bathroom, but when she got out, her brothers were nowhere to be seen. Elle pushed her way through the crowd, muttering to herself.

"I'm going to kill them," Elle muttered as she ran into a solid mass. She felt herself falling toward the ground when a strong pair of arms took hold of her—keeping her from falling to the ground.

"You do realize that murder is illegal, right?" a tall guy with dark hair and a killer smile said as he helped Elle regain her balance.

"Once the judge sees who my brothers are, he'll be lenient."

"You're funny."

"No, actually, I'm Elle." After the guy looked at her oddly for a second, Elle smacked her forehead. "I'm an idiot. Such an idiot."

"No, you're Elle and I'm Jackson, by the way."

"Hi, Jackson."

"Can I get you a drink?"

"I swore off drinking this morning."

"And yet you chose to come to a kegger the same night? I'm not convinced. You just don't want to accept a drink from a strange guy."

"Sure, we can go with that."

"How about you get your own drink, but we pretend that I got it for you."

"I suppose." Elle said as she slowly starting heading toward the keg with Jackson.

"Elle-Belle, we gotta go. We have some uh—grilling to do," Dean said interrupting Elle's conversation.

"Right now?" Elle asked.

"Yes now. People's lives are depending on it."

"I'm kinda busy, Dean."

"With Abercrombie here?"

"You must be the brother," Jackson said holding his hand out.

"That's right. Now, Elle, let's go."

"I'm sure people will survive while I get a drink."

"You're really willing to take that risk?"

"Hey—I don't want to get in the middle of this," Jackson said. "I'll just give you my number. Call me when you're done—grilling."

Elle sighed before she handed Jackson her cellphone which he used to call himself. He smiled at Elle as he showed her his phone with her phone number showing up. Elle couldn't help but notice a silver ring on his finger with a ruby jewel and a diamond crusted cross. But she was too flattered by the guy's attention that she didn't think anything more of it. Dean scowled at the scene his little sister was pulling. He snatched Elle's phone from Jackson before he dragged her out of the party. He saved his speech for when they were in the Impala alone.

"Really?" Dean asked. "Him?"

"I just met him," Elle said rolling her eyes. "So far he didn't seem too bad."

"I know his type: douche. He was looking for one thing: sex."

"You've known him for like thirty seconds."

"Long enough to see right through him," Dean said taking Elle's phone out of his pocket. He then proceeded to delete the guy's number from her phone.

"Dean! What the hell!"

"You know that we don't get attached. Not in this business. Besides, I'm just looking out for you and we're getting you a new phone number in the morning."

"No, we're not. And just stop. I'm more than capable of doing it for myself."

"You know, I'd believe you if I didn't have to save your ass so often."

"I saved your ass last time, remember."

"Yeah—you shot me."

Elle rolled her eyes as Dean pulled the Impala into Old North Cemetery and parked it behind some trees, so that it wasn't visible from the road. They then got out of the car and moved to the trunk to get flashlights, salt, lighter fluid, and shovels. Then, they began the task of looking through the graveyard for the grave with Karns' symbol on it. After looking for about twenty minutes, Dean found the one they were looking for with an engraved cross symbol. Dean set his shovel on the earth before he slammed his foot onto it, to get some dirt onto it. He then dumped the dirt beside him. He dumped several more shovelfuls before he looked over at Elle.

"Hi. Ho." Dean sang very off key.

"Cute, really cute. I'm surprised you even remember that." Elle said.

"Your Disney phase was one the lower moments of my life that I'm not proud of. I'm man enough to admit that. Now pick up that shovel and dig."

"Diggity dig?"

Dean shook his head—meaning that he was done reliving Elle's Disney phase. Elle couldn't help but smile at the fond memories of forcing her brothers to watch any and all Disney movies with her. Sam had been okay with doing so—but Dean would act like he was dying when she wanted to watch one—but even he got sucked into the movies, at times. Elle picked up the shovel and started shoveling the dirt—although, she did make sure to only take one shovelful for about every five of Dean's. He was being a jerk—and he deserved to do more of the work. Dean made a comment about next time, he was going to watch the cute girl's house and Sam was going to dig up the body when he finally broke through the wood of the coffin.

"Hello preacher," Dean said.

"He doesn't like you," Elle retorted.

"What spirit likes a guy disturbing it?"

"Not because of that—but because you're a man-whore."

"Hey, I don't get paid. We've been over this."

Elle shook her head as Dean crawled out of the hole first. He then started dumping salt down into the hole with Elle still down there. He did this frequently—which pissed her off to know end. Normally, she'd just latch onto the side of the hole and pull herself up, but the grave was too deep for that. She yelled for her brother to pull her up which he did after several unnecessary jokes. He then said goodbye to the preacher before he tossed the match into the grave. Both Elle and Dean watched the bones burst into flames before they walked away and back to the Impala. They were headed over to Lori's to meet Sam when Sam called Elle's cellphone. Apparently, the Hook Man showed up and attacked Revered Sorensen. He was still alive luckily and Sam and Lori were fine, but when Elle told Dean what Sam said, he quickly pulled a U-turn and headed in the direction of the hospital.

Once at the hospital, Elle and Dean practically ran inside to check on their brother who was busy chatting with the sheriff's department with Lori. Two officers tried to keep Dean and Elle back, but Sam claimed them as his siblings—so they were reluctantly allowed through. The sheriff Elle had argued with earlier didn't seem too pleased to see her again; but he bit his tongue. When the Winchester siblings were finally alone, Sam explained that they saw the Hook Man, despite the fact that Elle and Dean had torched the guy not too long ago. Sam finally agreed with the theory that the Hook Man was tied to Lori. First, Rich came on too strong to her while they were making out. Second, Taylor tried to turn her into a party girl. Third, she found out that her father was having an affair.

"Remind me not to piss this girl off," Dean muttered.

"Just convince her that you've found Jesus and are a changed man," Elle retorted.

"Or how about we just figure out what the hell went wrong. We burned those bones. Buried them in salt and everything. Why isn't that stopping him?"

"So we missed something?"

"That's not possible, we burned everything in that coffin."

"Did you get the hook?" Sam asked.

"The hook? Dean asked.

"Well, it was the murder weapon, and in a way, it was part of him."

"Did you see a hook?" Dean asked.

"No, did you?" Elle asked.

"You were too busy distracting me with your Disney sing-along."

"So what does this mean? That the hook is a source of his power?"

"That's only thing I can think of—so, if we find the hook…" Sam started.

"We stop the Hook Man," Sam, Elle, and Dean said simultaneously.

"That was just creepy," Elle retorted.

"Just like you," Dean smirked at his sister. "Let's go find this damn hook and end this thing."

Once again, all three Winchesters were back at the library, looking more into Jacob Karns. They searched through piles of papers when Dean found a log book. The log book said that upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoner's house of worship, St. Barnabas Church. Sam recognized that as the church where Lori's father preached. Which led to the next question—why would a church keep a blood-stained hook? So once again, they went back into the records. This time they found that the silver hook had been reforged into other objects. Thankfully, the file listed the objects it had been reforged into: a candlestick, a ring, necklace, and a crucifix. But they updated the records to say that the ring went missing. The ring was missing. Who the hell would take a ring that belonged to a church? Elle thought for a moment—and then her eyes widened. She had seen a ring that looked awfully church-like not too long ago. It was the ring the guy from the party had been wearing. She was going to have to go back to the party where he hopefully still was partying. She told Sam and Dean that she'd meet them at the church. She had someone to go meet.

Her brothers didn't question it—but just as she figured, Jackson was pretty drunk when she got back to the party. Although, he instantly recognized her and walked over to where she stood. He took her hand with his hand that wasn't holding a cup of beer and led her over to the couch. What kind of gesture was this supposed to be? Without notice, he began to nuzzle at her neck which made her feel overly uncomfortable. She needed to get that ring from his finger—which looking at it now—was quite obviously a church heirloom.

"Jackson, where did you get that ring?" Elle asked gently pushing him from her neck.

"It's not important," Jackson responded attempting to move back.

"Please, tell me?" Elle asked him, giving him her puppy dog eyes.

"What are you going to give me in return?"

Jackson leaned closer to her, causing Elle to catch her breath for a moment. She knew what he was insinuating and for a moment she felt nervous. Not because she was actually overly attracted to him—but because she had been on the road so long that she hadn't actually kissed a guy in a long time. Hell, she couldn't really even remember the last time—which was probably something she had in common with Dean, but for a completely different reason. But she really shouldn't be freaking out. It wasn't like she was ever going to see this guy again once they were done with the case. Although, she had to admit that she felt a twinge of guilt about using him—but it was the only thing she could think of at the time. Besides, he initiated things. Sometimes, if only she didn't have a brain to overthink things. Elle nervously leaned forward and grabbed his face with her hands and pulled him closer to her. She gently pressed her lips against his before he took control of the situation. His kisses became more heated—causing Elle to grow desperate for air. While she hadn't been kissed in a while—it wasn't what she was looking for. He was attractive and a decent kisser, but she didn't feel anything. She felt nothing—she so badly wanted to feel something. To feel her heart skip a beat—or something. Elle pulled away gasping for breath.

"There's more where that came from," Elle said huskily—knowing full well that he wasn't going to get the other anymore. "Now, about the ring."

"It was a frat thing. It's been passed down for decades. Probably longer," Jackson said with a shrug.

"Can I see it?"

Jackson, not seeing a problem with this, handed Elle the ring after he had taken it off his finger.

"Just as I suspected. It's from Reverend Sorensen's church. I'm guessing that you frat boys pass it down since you've stolen it."

"What are you a cop or something?"

"Really? Do I look that old to you?"

"Give me back my ring."

"I don't think so. You see—I need this in order to get rid of the spirit of Jacob Karns. Not that I expect you remember a word of this in the morning."

Elle stood up to leave but Jackson then wrapped his hands tightly around her and pulled her off her feet and back onto the couch. She struggled for a moment to get away from him. He had her pinned down to the couch, while he was practically on top of her. If anyone at the party knew better—they should be trying to stop him because of the compromising position. He tried to fight her for the ring—but she wasn't giving it up.

"Remember those brothers I was talking about? They taught me how to deal with dicks like you."

Elle kicked Jackson in balls causing him to howl in pain, falling off the couch with his beer spilling all over him, before she ran out the door. So maybe Dean had been right about the guy—but there was no way in hell she was telling him that. She ran until she got to the church just in time to catch Sam and Dean finish burning up the silver objects. Apparently, they didn't want to take any chances and they burned anything made of silver, which made her chuckle as she threw the ring into the fire. Elle questioned them to see if they had gotten everything that had been listed and they said that they had, but before she could question them any more—they heard footsteps coming from upstairs. Sam and Elle followed after Dean who led the way with his rifle. But they were relieved to find that it was just Lori. Dean lowered the gun as Sam walked over to Lori. Dean motioned with his head for Elle to follow back downstairs. While her inner little sister instincts told her to stay and spy and Sam, she reluctantly followed Dean back downstairs.

"You know how you say I ruin your fun, we'll you're a kill-joy to my fun," Elle said.

"We're in a church—Sammy's not gonna do anything worth spying over," Dean responded.

"You don't know that."

"Besides the fact that we're in a church—he's still not over Jess. Sammy's not getting any action. I can tell you that."

"Would you do it?"

"Do what?"

"It. In a church."

"Who says I haven't already."

"Have you?"

"What was that?"

"Don't avoid the subject."

"No, really, did you hear that?"

The sounds of screaming and smashing glass came from upstairs. Both Dean and Elle quickly ran upstairs, Dean with the rifle. Once upstairs, they found Sam knocked backwards into the wall with the Hook Man standing over Lori. Dean shouted for Sam to duck before he shot the Hook Man once, which caused the thing to disappear into dust.

"Why's he going after her? I thought it was a sex thing," Elle shouted.

"Apparently we were wrong," Dean responded.

"Anyone who deserves punishment is more accurate," Sam said. "Now what about that silver. I thought we got it all."

"So did I."

"Then why is he still here?"

"Because you idiots forgot something. Lori, where'd you get that necklace?" Elle asked.

'My father gave it to me," Lori responded.

"And where'd he get it?" Dean asked.

"He—he said it was a church heirloom, he gave it to me when I started college."

"Is it silver?" Sam asked.

"Yes!"

Sam ripped the chain from Lori's necklace from her neck just as a scratching sound came from the hallway. Elle looked into the hallway, but she didn't see anything except the mark the hook was making. It all seemed to happen in a hurry, Dean handed Elle the rifle as he motioned for Sam to toss the necklace. Sam did and then stepped in front of Lori.

"Cover me," Dean said to Elle.

Dean took off in a sprint running for the basement toward the fire.

"Reverend Buttmunch, I'm over here!" Elle shouted. "I was so drunk a few nights ago—might as well come and get me too, if that's the route we're going. Because I also lied about never drinking again."

Elle took several shots into the nothingness. She hit a stained glass window causing the pane to shatter. She then needed to reload the gun with rock salt. Dean better hurry his ass up because she wasn't sure how much longer she'd last against an invisible Hook Man. Pervy college guy: sure, she could handle. But invisible Hook Man: not so much. Just then, the Hook Man knocked the rifle from Elle's hands causing her to go flying onto a pew. She screamed as she felt her wrist snap because of the way she landed. But she was surprised when the Hook Man didn't continue to come after her—instead he went after Sam and Lori who were backed into a corner. Holding her hand close to her body, Elle sprinted back for the loaded rifle.

"Hey loser! No one gets to kill my brothers but me!"

Elle took another shot at the Hook Man, but it wasn't her shot that did anything to him. Instead his hook began to melt and the rest of his body burned up into nothing. Elle breathed a sigh of relief knowing that Dean must have finished the job. She ran over to Sam as he was helping Lori to her feet as Dean came upstairs to make sure that the Hook Man was gone. He motions for Elle to come over to him, to give Sam and Lori a little time to sort through things.

Eventually, the sheriffs and the ambulance showed up. Elle was rather glad to have a medical professional set her broken wrist rather than Dean. She trusted her brother, but Dean wasn't exactly trained in the medical field. They then put a soft cast on it. They said that in a few days she should return to the doctor's office to get a hard cast, but she knew that she, Dean, and Sam would be long gone before that happened. Besides, the Sheriff wanted the Winchesters out of his town. When Sam was finished getting bandaged up, Lori walked him back to the Impala where Elle lay in the backseat after downing a few more aspirin for the throbbing feeling in her wrist. Lori kissed Sam on the cheek before he got back into the car. Sam looked out the window at Lori who looked rather saddened. Dean mentioned that they could stay, but Sam shook his head no. Dean looked to Sam and Elle before he sighed and started the Impala—driving away from the church. Elle decided that she needed something to distract her from the pain, so she pulled out her sketchbook. She supposed that she should at least be thankful that it was her non-dominant wrist that she broke—meaning she could still sketch. But despite the want to sketch, Elle felt sleep becoming more of a necessity. Before her eyes shut for some much-needed sleep, the last thing she saw was the sketch of her favorite lake that had been ruined by the boy from Wisconsin. She had no idea what it meant—but her last thought was on wings.


	9. Babe I'm Gonna Leave You

Sam and Elle Winchester sat outside in the Impala, listening to music that wasn't Dean's favorite while their older brother was inside a bar hustling some guys at pool for money—you know, an honest living. Sam changed the station until Green Day's Boulevard of Broken Dreams started playing and the younger Winchester siblings began singing along to it quietly. By the end of the song, both Sam and Elle had found their jam and were singing at the top of their lungs. When the song finished, the siblings looked to each other and started laughing. They hadn't had a moment like that in a while—a moment shared only between the two of them. Elle leaned forward, resting her arms on the front seat while Sam turned toward his little sister before he ruffled her hair to which she responded by crinkling her nose at him.

"Green Day, really?" Sam asked.

"Hell yes, but Dean thinks they sold out," Elle responded.

"Dean just listens to Dad's music because—" Sam started, stopping short of finishing the sentence.

"It's his way to connect to him—yeah, I get that much. I tried that, but it doesn't really work for me."

"Dad's a stubborn son-of-a-bitch."

"You sounded like Dean for a minute there."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?"

"Neither—just an observation that he's starting to rub off on you again."

"You're one to be talking."

Elle smiled and shook her head at her brother—this was the probably most light-hearted of a conversation that the siblings had in a while. She remembered what she missed about Sam—he was unfailingly kind—not to mention that he didn't tease her to death like Dean did. Granted, that was the nature of her relationship with Dean, while Sam and Elle would find something besides each other to make fun of together. Elle sighed before she plopped back on her pillow in the backseat. Sam pulled out his Palm Pilot and began playing a game on it. After a few minutes of silence, Sam turned back to his sister once more.

"How much do you think he's raking in?" Sam asked.

"Probably enough to pay for some better company—if you know what I mean," Elle snickered.

"Do you remember that one in time in Reno—"

"That wasn't a memory I needed seared back in my brain, you loser."

"Your face was priceless."

"Oh back in the days when I was young and naïve."

"Dean why are you hurting her? I can't believe you actually said that."

"Shut up! In my defense, nobody explained the concept to me."

Elle couldn't help but blush—remembering her thirteen year old dorky-self walking in on Dean when he was uh—busy. Speaking of her oldest brother, he walked out of a bar holding a giant wad of cash, waving it in the air like a goofball. Sam quickly changed the music back to something Dean would listen to. Dean grinned as he slipped into the driver's seat of the Impala before he tossed the money into Sam's lap. Elle gave Sam a look—which he somehow knew if Dean had made enough for a special someone—to which Sammy responded by nodding his head with a laugh. Dean looked to them confused before Sam, tried to cover.

"You know, we could get day jobs once in a while," Sam suggested.

"Hunting's our day job," Dean responded. "And the pay is crap.

"Besides, I don't think Dean could actually keep a job if he tried," Elle retorted.

"And you think you could do better?"

"Yes—but I suppose you might be able to handle asking if they wanted fries with that—Ding! Fries are done! Ding! Fries are done!"

"Would you like an apple pie with that?" Sam continued.

"I don't even want to know," Dean said shaking his head.

"Then I suppose you don't want to hear about the new gig Sam found?" Elle asked.

"Where is it?"

"Oasis Plains, Oklahoma—not far from here. A gas company employee, Dustin Burwash, supposedly died from Creutzfeldt-Jakob," Sam said.

"Bless you," Elle teased.

"Huh?" Dean asked in confusion.

"Human mad cow disease," Sam offered.

"Mad cow. Wasn't that on Oprah?"

"You watch Oprah?"

With an embarrassed look on his face, Dean fumbled to come up with anything coherent to say.

"And the truth comes out," Elle smirked. "We should get him tickets to her show."

"Screw you, Elle," Dean hissed. "So anyway, this guy eats a bad burger—and how is this our kind of thing?"

"Apparently, Oprah failed him."

"I'd shut up now if I were you. Unless you wanna walk to the new gig. Sammy, explain."

"Mad cow disease causes massive brain degeneration. It takes months, even years, for the damage to appear. But this guy, Dustin? Sounds like his brain disintegrated in about an hour. Maybe less," Sam explained.

"Yeah—that's weird."

"Yeah—now, it could be the disease. Or it could be something much nastier. I think we should check it out."

"All right, Oklahoma—man, work, work, work. No time to spend my money."

Sam and Elle both giggled, thinking of their earlier conversation to which Dean looked at them both before shaking his head. Dean turned on the tunes—playing some Led Zeppelin. With a sigh, Elle reached for her sketchbook once more and turned to the page with the lake and the wings. She still didn't have a clue what it meant. Knowing that she there wasn't much rest for the wicked—Elle decided to get some sleep while she still could. She kicked her shoes and socks off—absently rubbing at the burned ring scar around her ankle with her hand that was still in its soft cast before she picked up Tigger and cuddled close to him before drifting off to sleep.

Elle opened her eyes slowly and looked up at the night's sky. She did a double take. The night's sky? Last thing she knew, she had been sleeping in the back of the Impala with her brothers Sam and Dean as they headed to Oasis Plains, Oklahoma to check out a lead. By her surroundings, she knew that she wasn't in Oklahoma. Upon further examination, she realized that she was in the very place she came to in her dreams: a lake in the middle of the woods with the night's sky shining overhead and being reflected off the water. Elle gasped. How the hell had she gotten here? Was this some stupid prank of Dean's? She groaned before she stood to her feet—which were noticeably shoeless. They were quite bare—which caused Elle to cringe at the feeling of sand beneath her toes. She absolutely hated that feeling. She then took a few steps—but wasn't quite sure where to go in the dark.

"Dean, this isn't funny," Elle shouted.

There was no response. Not even a cricket chirped or a mosquito buzzed. Strange—quite strange.

"Sam—was this your idea? I swear I'm going to kill you two."

Elle pulled out her cellphone to give her a bit more light to see where she was going. She took a few steps before she tripped over a solid lump—causing her to fall to the ground. Only she fell on top of the lump which groaned beneath her. Elle screamed at the thought of company and quickly crawled off whatever it was before she used the light from her phone to examine it. She gasped at what she saw—probably the last thing she had been expecting: her father. This had to be a dream, right? But that fall had felt real—and so had he when she had tripped. She quickly deduced that it could be a shapeshifter; so she touched his skin with the silver bracelet on her wrist—nothing. After a few more ideas—she knew that it either had to be John Winchester or his doppelganger that was somehow immune to silver.

She wasn't sure what to do in this situation. Normally most people would be excited at the prospect of seeing their father—but she wasn't exactly sure how she felt about it. She longed so much for her father's love—approval—hell, even a gesture that he at least cared for her more than the drunk down the road. Then again—she was also pretty pissed at him for everything he had put her through. She could just leave him here—passed out. It was then that she spotted her bag. She reached for it and pulled out a bottle the bottle of water she had placed in it. She unscrewed the cap before she stood directly above John's face and dumped the water on him. He spluttered and flailed about, knocking Elle back to the ground. He then growled an obscenity at her before he reached for the knife in his boot and brought it to his daughter's throat.

"Really? This is how you react when you see your only daughter again? You're going to kill me? Why am I not surprised," Elle muttered with the knife pressed against her throat.

"You're not my daughter," John hissed. "You're a—"

"Shifter? Then I wouldn't be able to wear my silver bracelet. Try again."

"Then you're using the girl as a meat suit."

"There's holy water in my bag—might as well get the salt too. Just like you taught me. Well more—just like Dean taught me, but you taught him—so in a way I suppose you could claim it."

John reached for Elle's bag and pulled out the holy water and the salt. He doused the whole bottle of water on her before dumping some salt on her wet hair. What an ass, Elle thought as she spluttered to get the her salty, wet hair out of her mouth. Both John and Elle stood up—hesitantly eyeing each other for a moment before she angrily attempted to get some of the salt out of her hair—knowing that it was a losing battle she was fighting.

"Happy, Father?" Elle growled.

"Campbell?" John questioned.

"Last time I checked."

"What the hell did you do?"

"Me? I was about to ask you that very question."

"I mean—I always knew you were desperate, but being this desperate is just pathetic."

"And why exactly are you implying?"

"You made a deal with a Crossroad's demon, didn't you?"

"First of all, I'm not that stupid to make a deal to see you. Second of all, I didn't get a witch to do anything either. So however the hell we ended up here—it wasn't me. Get a new suspect. Maybe you messed something up. Wouldn't be the first time."

"Try saying that to my face, girl."

"I believe I just did."

"You ungrateful girl—after everything I've done for you and this is how you—" John growled.

John raised his hand to strike Elle; but the blow to her face never came. Instead they both went flying through the air—just like the tall trees in the intense wind. Wait, trees were flying? The lights in the lone cabin across the lake exploded and the house went dark. A voice that didn't belong to John or Elle resounded through the night's sky telling them to cease. Elle looked to her father with fear easily read on her face—and she was surprised to see the same emotion on his face. Although, a strange and foreign emotion ran through her as her heart fluttered at the sound of the voice—as if her heart knew something that her head didn't. Elle held her chest for a moment as John stood up, cursing underneath his breath.

"Who's there?" John shouted.

"This is not the first time we've encountered each other, John Winchester," the voice echoed.

"You know this guy?" Elle called to her father.

"Not exactly," John scoffed.

"Your fabrications and deceptions must end. You have not behaved as advised, forcing me to take matters into my own phalanges."

"Which one of us is he talking to?" Elle whispered.

"You can have her back!" John shouted. "I never asked for this. There's gotta be some sort of return policy on what never should have been."

"I told you on June 19, 1984 that Campbell Mary Winchester would be of great import one day and you have done nothing to heed me or assist your daughter."

"Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" Elle screamed.

"Ask and it shall be given, Campbell Winchester."

Things went black and when Elle awoke again she was in almost the same spot she had been in before—only now, the sun was beginning to set. But something else seemed off about the place; but she couldn't quite put a finger on it. But her confusion didn't last long as John Winchester came walking out of the lake, completely drenched from head to toe with weeds, reeds, and mud clinging to him. If she wasn't so confused about their situation she might have laughed—but her father clearly wasn't in the laughing mood.

"What happened?" Elle asked. "Who the hell was that?"

"I don't have to explain anything to you," John growled.

"You sure as hell do. For starters, where the hell are we?"

"Wisconsin. I hate Wisconsin."

"Why do you hate Wisconsin?"

"You want the truth, Campbell? Fine, here's the truth—the God's honest truth. It's where I got saddled with you."

"Harsh. But I suppose this is probably the most honest conversation we've ever had. Hey! Where are you going?"

"Getting out of this god-forsaken state."

John Winchester stormed across the fresh grass, leaving Elle standing there with her arms folded across her chest. Her stubborn-self wanted to just stand there and let him walk away—but she had absolutely no idea where she was nor how to get back to her brothers. She had two options—follow her father or wait for the possibility of someone else to come around. Her best bet was to follow her dad—so she ran after him. She ran after him on the trail when she suddenly lost him. Damn him. He would make things difficult. She decided to just continue down the train when a hand covered her mouth and another wrapped around her waist. Elle wanted to scream and get away, but the person had a tight grip.

"Don't scream," John hissed.

With a pissed-off expression on her face, Elle stuck her tongue out and licked John's hand. His hand immediately flew off his daughter's face.

"What the hell did you do that for?" John sneered.

"Dean taught me that," Elle responded.

"Of course he did."

"Now, can we please just get out of here? I promise I'll leave you alone and forget about you."

"No."

"No? No you won't help me?"

"No, I can't help you."

"John Winchester hunter extraordinaire can't find his way out of the woods? That's a new excuse. Pathetic one for you actually."

"Well, Campbell, the problem isn't where—it's when."

"What? Is it too light outside or something?"

"Shut up. You're going to give us away."

"To who? The local bear? Oh, how terrifying."

"Girl—do you know how to do anything else but frustrate me?"

"Fine, I'll just leave then."

Elle took a few steps away from her father stubbornly. She kept her head held high as she walked away from him when his hand's grip tightened around her arm. She looked to him but he only pointed straight ahead down the trail. Elle's eyes widened. It couldn't be.

"Is that—" Elle started.

"Yeah—it's me," John responded.

"What the hell is going on? How can you be in two places at once?"

"I don't know but the last time I was here was 1984. I made a point to never come back—which means—"

"We went back in time? How the hell is that possible? Wait a minute, should we be worried about the time-space continuum?"  
"He can't see you." The random voice was back.

"Who are you?" Elle shouted.

"That is not of import. The truth is almost upon us."

"What's that supposed to mean?" but the voice didn't respond. Elle then turned to her father. "Do you know why we're here?" John also didn't respond. "You do know, don't you?"

"It's not that hard to figure out what happened on June 19, 1984, is it?"

Elle's heart began to race. The answers she had wanted for years lay in the past—with her father. Was she finally about to get what she had been longing for for so long? For a split second, she wondered if maybe she didn't want to know—but something told her that she needed to know. Besides, whatever this thing was had brought her back here for a reason.

"Dad?" Elle asked timidly.

"What now, Campbell?" John groaned.

"Do you know what we're dealing with?"

"I've only ran into this thing one other time and that was years ago."

"Twenty-one years ago?"

"What do you think?"

"Well—why did you meet it?"

"It wasn't a meeting. It was an ambush. One that I'm not about to relive again."

"Yes, you are." The voice said.

Suddenly, they were back by the lake as the stars began to appear. Elle could see a younger version of her father sitting on a boulder carving into a large stick with his knife maybe about ten feet from her. He had beer on the ground beside him. Elle wanted to ask her present day father what he had been hunting and where Sam and Dean were, but he was still seething with anger from whatever was messing with them. Younger John took a swig of his beer bottle when the wind began to pick up. The lights in the cabin across the lake burst and the house went dark. This scene seemed oddly familiar.

"Who's there you son-of-a-bitch?" younger John shouted. "I've been waiting for you. Show your face you bastard."

"You are mistaken when you assume that I am illegitimate."

"You killed my wife!"

"Again, you are mistaken, John Winchester."

"I will kill you."

"The probability is highly unlikely."

"What the hell do you want? If you're going to kill me, I swear to God that I will find a way to come back and get my revenge."

"If I had wanted to kill you I would have already done so and you shouldn't take such an oath lightly."

"I'll ask one last time. What the hell do you want with me?"

"I have come to return something to your possession."

"Mary?"

"Mary Winchester's death was a necessary casualty. Her daughter's however, was not. Campbell Winchester's time of grace must be fulfilled. She will be of great importance one day."

"Daughter?"

"The daughter that was lost in the womb."

"What the hell are you trying to say?"

"Your daughter is being returned to you on the day that should have been for her birth."

"I don't have a daughter. I have two sons."

"It was prophesied that there would be a Winchester daughter born to John and Mary Winchester. He keeps his promises."

"Who are you?"

"That is not of import."

"Then I say no."

"No?"

"If I can't have Mary back then I don't want our daughter. Keep her."

"You don't have a choice. You will take her."

"No, I will not."

"You should show me a little respect."

"Show the voice in my head some respect? I'm drunk, but at least you have a sense of humor."

Lightning flashed, causing younger John to fall to the ground. Elle couldn't help but try to hide herself behind a tree. Surprisingly, she saw the present day version of her father standing watching the entire scene with his arms folded across his chest with no expression on his face. Elle looked back to the younger version of her father once more as he scrambled to get back onto the rock.

"What the hell was that for?" younger John shouted to the sky.

"You must swear an oath, John Winchester. You must swear that you will protect Campbell Winchester with your life. That she will know no harm while under your protection."

"What do I get in return?"

"Is your own flesh and blood not enough for you?"

"If it's not Mary or seeing her death avenged—then no."

"You will take your daughter and you will raise her. What has been written has been written."

There was a blinding flash of light and John fell off the rock again—only this time when he shouted to the sky, it didn't respond back. But there was another noise that began to fill the air—the cries of a child. Elle looked around and gasped at the sight of a newborn baby, naked on the grass beside the younger version of her father. Was that her? Had she just appeared out of nowhere? John leaned over the crying baby. His first instinct was to silence the crying thing—but his hands stopped just short of touching the baby. He shook his head and angrily wiped at his eyes before he stood up and walked away—leaving the baby there on the grass. Present day Elle looked to her present day father who was leaning against a tree watching his younger self.

"Did you just leave me?" Elle questioned.

"Since we don't really have a choice—watch and see," older John responded.

Elle watched as younger John stumbled down a path.

"You son-of-a-bitch, you left me!" Elle hissed.

Things seemed to swirl around her and next thing Elle knew—she was standing by her father at the entrance to Almon Park. The Impala was parked in the furthest parking lot underneath a streetlight. Elle ran toward the car to find a young version of Dean asleep in the backseat holding a baby version of Sam. Younger John Winchester began to walk across the parking lot toward the car. He sighed when he finally reached the car—surprisingly, his eyes were puffy and red; but Elle didn't see a baby anywhere. Then, the streetlight exploded and John fell to the asphalt for cover.

"Goodbye, Campbell Winchester. We shall meet again."

The backdoor passenger's door of the Impala opened and slammed shut. Little Dean walked around the car with a shotgun in his hands, but he began to lower it, and then dropped it completely. He rushed over to where the baby lay on the trunk of the Impala and picked her up before John could stop him.

"Put it down," John commanded. "Right now. We don't know what that thing is."

"She's my lost sister," little Dean responded. "Where did you find her?"

How he knew that must have baffled John, given the look on his face. That thing must have done something to Dean. Dean opened the back door of the car before putting one of his t-shirts over the baby. He was good with the new baby—already having had practice with Sam. Baby Elle seemed to smile in Dean's arms which made Dean grin.

"What's her name, Daddy?" Dean asked.

"Campbell," John said before muttering "after the family who got us in this mess in the first place."

Baby Sam seemed to coo "Elle" from inside the car almost as if he were trying to repeat John. Baby Elle kicked a bit—and present day Elle could see the burn ring of two fingers and a thumb around the baby's ankle—the mark she still had around her ankle today. She had always assumed that that her father had given it to her—but apparently, she had always had it. Present day Elle, shook her head as she focused back on Dean who was bouncing a giggling baby.

"Sammy's right. I think Elle works better." Dean said.

"We can't keep it," John responded.

He snatched Baby Elle from little Dean's arms and for a moment, John cradled Elle close to him—almost like he was never going to let her go. For a second, the baby was the most precious thing to him—he could picture himself loving her more with every day, see himself walking her down the aisle—seeing Mary in her. All those feelings a father feels for his little girl rushed through him-but then Dean's next thought ruined it all for John.

"Daddy, do you think you can find my lost mommy too?"

And at that moment, John realized that this baby would never be his Mary. She would only be a reminder of what he lost. He practically dropped the baby back into Dean's arms. Present day Elle looked at the younger version of her father and her heart broke. For a moment she had been loved—loved the way she had wanted to be loved. And then it was over. At that moment both baby Elle and present day Elle began to cry; but present day Elle was the only one who attempted to hide her tears from her father. Things began to swirl once more and Elle found herself trying to control her tears back by the lake under the stars once more. In her peripheral vision she could see John almost glaring at her.

"I'm almost done acting like a friggin baby if that's what you're thinking," Elle sniffled.

After a few minutes, Elle slowly exhaled. She could see her breath in the air. She slowly stood up before she walked over to her father.

"This makes everything make more sense," Elle commented.

"All I wanted was Mary alive. You were never supposed to exist, Campbell," John said not looking at her.

"But I do and yet you act like I don't."

Elle could have sworn she heard him whisper "It's easier that way," but her father's lips didn't move. Maybe she was just hearing things.

"Do you know what that thing was?"

"No. I've been busy searching for Mary's killer—not something as useless as that."

"What I don't get is that you willingly took me in without being sure first—especially when you had no idea what the thing that brought me to you was."

"I waited until Dean was asleep before I did all the usual tests."

"Of course you did." Elle said absently rubbing the scar on her arm which she had assumed had been from her father.

"And even then I still didn't believe you were mine."

"Am—am I actually your daughter?" Elle asked.

"Biologically you're mine and Mary's if that's what you're asking."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I had blood tests run when you were a kid."

"When?"

"Does it matter?"

"When?"

"You were eight or something like that."

~*~Flashback~*~

John Winchester walked into the motel room they had called home for the last week somewhere in Nebraska. He found Dean standing near the door with the shotgun aimed at him. It almost brought a smile to his face that Dean did exactly as he was supposed to—not trust anybody or anything when protecting his siblings. Speaking of siblings—John turned to see Sam sitting on one of the beds with a concerned expression on his face as he looked to his younger sister Elle. Elle's face looked quite flushed as she held her stomach. The young girl, about eight, attempted to stifle her tears when she noticed her father. When Sam realized that it was John he practically jumped off the bed and ran to his father.

"Dad, Elle's really sick," Sam said. "I think she—"

"Campbell's fine," John responded. "She'll get over it. Besides, she's probably just faking it."

"She's been this way for a while, Dad," Dean added.

"What do you want me to do about it? I forgot my magic wand in the car."

"She needs to see a doctor," Sam said, standing a little taller.

"I'm not taking her to a goddamn hospital, Sam. They ask too many questions."

"But I think she has—"

"The flu. If she was stronger she wouldn't be like this right now."

"But Dad—"

"No buts, Sammy. I have a job to get back to. I just left something in the safe."

John walked over to the safe and entered the combination before he pulled something out. Sam and Dean both tried to sneak a peek as to what it was, but their father shoved it in his inside jacket pocket before either of them could see. Sam asked his father one more time to help Elle, but John brushed him aside and told him to listen to Dean. And just like that, John Winchester had left his children alone once more. Elle's cries became more audible once John was outside. Sam quickly rushed over to his little sister's side as she vomited all over the pillow her head had been resting on. He pulled Elle away from the mess she had made and pushed her hair out of her mouth. She was so hot to the touch.

"Dean what do we do?" Sam asked.

"I—I maybe she needs some water," Dean responded.

Dean quickly ran over to the motel room sink and filled up one of the complimentary coffee mugs with cool water. He then ran it back to his sick little sister. He told Sam to hold Elle, tipping her head back so that he could get some water into her. Dean tried to pour the water into Elle's mouth, but she kept her lips tightly clamped.

"Elle-Belle, stop being stubborn," Dean chided.

With tears streaming down her face, she shook her head before she allowed a blood-curdling scream to escape her lips. She then fell away from Sam, tightly clutching her stomach area.

"Dean we gotta do something."

"I know—but Dad—"

"This is Elle we're talking about."

"You're right. You grab a trashcan and the emergency money. I got her. I think I saw a bus stop on the corner."

Sam looked to Dean for a second before his older brother told him to hurry up. Dean told Elle to get on his back, so that he could give her a piggyback. That was probably going to be the easiest way to get her to the hospital. Although, they really didn't have a clue how to get there—Dean just hoped that someone would be willing to give them a few directions. Elle wrapped her warm arms around Dean's neck.

"If you puke one me, I'll—"Dean stopped for a second to think about what he was going to say. "I'll—uh—not be very happy."

"That's not what you were going to say," Elle muttered.

"You can't read my mind, Elle- Belle, so you have no idea what I was going to say."

Dean tried to keep things light with his sister. He didn't want to let on how worried he really was about her; but Elle didn't respond any more. She was too tired to. With Elle on his back, Sam by his side with the trashcan and a wad of cash, Dean headed out of the motel. He had been right about the bus stop being on the corner. They waited about ten minutes before a bus pulled up. He motioned for Sam to pay the guy before he asked him how to get to the nearest hospital. Much to his relief, the driver said that it was a few miles down the road. They weren't going to have to change busses. Dean set Elle down on the seat beside Sam. She rested her head on Sam's lap and tried to get to sleep; but Dean could tell that there was something wrong with her stomach because she continued to hold on to it. When the bus finally came to a stop outside the hospital, Elle was once again on Dean's back as he carried her into the emergency room. The nurses looked quite shocked as three children came inside, the two boys asking that their sister be seen.

"Where's your mother?" one of the nurses asked.

"She's—she's dead," Dean said.

"And your father?"

"He's—he's—" Sam started.

"Working. He's out of town on a job. Sammy and I were supposed to be watching her," Dean finished. "You gotta do something."

"Unless it's an emergency, we need a parent," the nurse explained

Elle began screaming which caused Dean to drop his little sister and for her to collapse onto the floor in a heap. Without hesitation the nurse quickly ran out from behind the desk and knelt beside Elle, who was now clenching her teeth to keep from screaming, with tears continuing to stream down her cheeks and arms wrapped around her stomach. The nurse must have had some inclination as to what was wrong with Elle, because she began to ask her questions most of which Elle responded to with a shaky nod of her head. The nurse quickly picked Elle up into her arms and rushed the little girl to the back. Sam and Dean tried to follow behind her, but they weren't allowed to go any farther. Dean attempted to argue, saying that it was his job to look after his sister; but that got him nowhere. He and Sammy had to sit and wait. Well, Sam left for a bit to make a phone call. This turned out to be a good thing because a little over an hour later, Bobby Singer, family friend and fellow hunter burst through the doors to the emergency room. Both Sam and Dean and ran up to him, quite frantic. Bobby's eyes widened as he looked to both boys who both had puffy, red eyes—like they had been crying. He patted the boys on the shoulders.

"What's wrong with Ellie?" Bobby asked.

"They won't tell us anything. She's been back there a long time," Dean said.

"Where's your dad?"

"Working."

"Idjit. I'll got see what's going on."

Bobby walked up to the desk as Sam and Dean followed behind him. The nurse must have taken notice to the fact that the boys had greeted him, because her expression immediately soured.

"It's about time you got here," the woman reprimanded as she pulled out a clipboard with a bunch of papers on it. "You should be ashamed of yourself, leaving your sons to bring in a sick kid like that."

"I—uh—I," Bobby started, faltering. "It won't happen again. Now what's wrong with Ellie?"

"Her appendix burst. If your boys wouldn't have gotten her in when they did, she probably wouldn't be here right now," the woman said tossing the clipboard at Bobby.

"Is she gonna be okay?" Bobby asked as he began to flip through the paperwork.

"She should be just getting out of surgery. She's going to be in the hospital for a few days to make sure that infection doesn't spread."

"Can we see her?" Sam asked, his head barely poking above the top of the desk.

"I'll have the doctor come get you boys and your dad."

"He's not—" Sam started before Dean stepped on Sam's foot.

"He's not gonna want to wait long," Dean finished. "We wanna see her."

"Well, your sister was really sick, so you're just gonna have to be patient and wait until the doctor gives you the all clear. Besides, there's paperwork to be filled out."

Bobby shook his head and gritted through the snarky comment that he wanted to make about making it to the damn hospital in almost the half the time it should have taken him because he sped so fast to come check on the little girl he had grown to care for over the year. Of course, as Bobby filled out the paperwork, he couldn't help but let his anger toward John Winchester show. According to what the boys had told him, the man had seen his daughter in pain and did nothing—brushed it off like she was simply faking it. Faking a burst appendix? Idjit.

When Elle awoke, she felt rather groggy. She really didn't remember much after she collapsed in pain on the floor. Of course she knew that a doctor had seen her and then next thing she knew she was being rushed to surgery. And now here she was in a dark hospital room with Sam and Dean sleeping in chairs in the corner of the room. She hadn't meant to scare them so much. Honestly, she had believed her father—that it was nothing and she'd get over it. But apparently they both had been wrong if she was lying in a hospital bed in hospital clothes. She itched her face—noticing a plastic bracelet on her wrist. She examined the hospital bracelet on her wrist when she was done itching. She was surprised to see the name "Ellie Singer" on it. Singer? As in—

"How're you feeling, Ellie?" a voice came from the door.

"Thirsty," Elle mumbled. "Bobby why are you here?"

"Sam called me."

Elle's eyes widened. Her dad was going to be so pissed off when he found out. She tried to move to get up, but Bobby must have known what she was trying to do because he quickly rushed over and forced her to stay down. The commotion must have woken Sam and Dean up because they were soon over by Elle's bedside. Sam took his sister's hand and Dean stood behind him looking over Sam's shoulder at Elle.

"Don't you ever scare us like that again," Dean said. "I mean it."

"I didn't mean to," Elle said hoarsely.

"Yeah I know—well, I suppose if it's any consolation, you're gonna have a pretty badass scar."

"It itches."

"Don't touch it. That's what the doctor said," Sam added.

"Can we go back to the motel?"

"In a few days, Ellie," Bobby said. "Just let the doctors do their job."

"But my dad…" Elle started.

"You let me worry about your daddy, Ellie. I need to give that idjit a piece of my damn mind."

Elle sighed as she tried to make herself comfortable on the bed. The nurse noticed that she had woken up, so she brought in a cup of ice chips for Elle to suck on. Of course many of them ended up on her bed and pillow because Dean stole the cup and insisted on tossing them into her mouth to see if she could catch them—well, until Bobby head-slapped him. Then she fed herself her own ice chips before falling asleep again. When she woke up again, Dean had moved his chair beside her and was singing "Hey Jude" terribly off key. Elle waking up startled him—and then he quickly rushed to his own defense of why he was singing the song and it was because that's what Mom used to sing to him. Elle managed to give him a smile to which he responded by throwing the empty ice chip cup at Sam who was also sleeping. Sam quickly awoke and gave Dean a disgruntled look.

"Go on and give it to her," Dean commanded.

Sam stretched before he stood up with something behind his back. He walked closer, silently.

"Sammy got you something," Dean said.

"I can tell her myself, Dean," Sam groaned.

"By all means—go ahead then."

"I—I got you this, Elle-Belle."

Sam pulled out a stuffed Tigger animal out from behind his back and set it in Elle's arms. Elle hugged the thing tightly and thanked her brother. Sam then jumped up on the bed beside Elle and she snuggled close to her brother with Tigger in her arms. Then to her surprise, Dean jumped on her other side, leaving her sandwiched between her big brothers. This wasn't something normal for them—but even at the young age of eight, Elle had a suspicion it because they figured if she was closer to them—nothing more would happen to her. Dean began singing Mom's favorite Beatles' song off-key again as the three Winchesters refused to be parted.

John had been on the hunt for a pack of ghouls when he left Campbell with Sam and Dean. To say he was surprised when Bobby Singer showed up on his hunt would have been an understatement. While he and Bobby didn't always see eye to eye—the man did care for his kids. Although, he wished that the man didn't care for Campbell; if it meant that Sam and Dean got a somewhat normal existence, he would live with it.

"Bobby, you know that I'm more of a lone wolf on these hunts."

"That's not what this is about, John, and I think deep down you know it."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Ellie, I'm here about Ellie."

"Don't tell me that Sam and Dean roped you into her games too."

"It wasn't a game, John. Ellie's in the hospital. Her appendix ruptured. She could have died if Sam and Dean wouldn't have gotten her there when they did."

"They know better than to take her there. Too many questions."

"You idjit. You're more concerned about questions being asked than your own flesh and blood. That's messed up."

"She's not mine, Bobby, not really."

"What're you talking about? Ellie's got plenty of you in her—including her stubbornness."

"She shouldn't be alive. I've told you this."

"Yet she is and you're wasting your second-chance with her because you're scared."

"I'm a lot of things, but you're going senile if you think I'm scared."

"Oh you're scared all right. Scared that she's gonna leave you just like Mary did. Do you know what I'd give to have a second chance?"

"What the hell do you want from me Bobby?"

"You get down to that hospital and you see your little girl and you treat her like the princess she deserves to be treated like. You're going to regret it someday—treating her the way you do. So are you coming with me or not?"

"I'll come, but don't expect any miracles."

"That's the right answer."

"But I have one condition. I'm assuming that you had to sign the paperwork to admit her. I want you to request a blood test and get hers compared to Deans."

"You have got to be shitting me."

"Then we'll know once and for all."

"And when you find out that Ellie is yours and Mary's, I want to see a change, Winchester. You got that?"

John must have agreed because it wasn't too long until he was standing outside the door to Campbell's hospital room. The scene before them was of her snuggled with her brother's in the hospital bed while Disney's Beauty and the Beast played on the television. She looked so pale and fragile—and so much like her mother. He made a mistake—but he would never admit that. Bobby was right about one thing, he was stubborn, and there was no way in hell he was going to admit that he was wrong. John walked away from the room and Bobby followed after him.

"You idjit."

"I said I'd do it when the test was done. I'm waiting on that test."

"That could take weeks."

"Not when you pay the lab tech."

"You didn't."

"Well, I didn't. Jesvin Rajan did. But I told the guy it was a matter of life or death. Should only be a few days."

"You're running scared."

John didn't respond, instead he just walked away. While he did stay at the hospital, he refused to go into Elle's room. He would just meet Sam or Dean in the vending machine room; but he refused to see her. Six days later, when Elle was finally released from the hospital, the tests John had been waiting for finally came. They confirmed that Elle biologically was his and Mary's—which wasn't really what he had been expecting.

"You're getting a third chance here John, take it. They're rare and don't come around often. She's been asking to see you. Why don't you go see her before we take off?"

"No."

"No? What do you mean no?"

"None of this changes the fact that Mary's dead. Campbell is nothing but a reminder of that."

"Quit being an idjit and get in there and see your little girl who wants you to love her."

"I can't. I have a ghoul to go find."

"John don't you walk out that door."

"Try and stop me, Bobby."

"I'll do better than that."

John turned around toward Bobby as the older man decked him square in the face, causing him to fall to the floor. Bobby shook his fist before finishing things.

"That little girl deserves better than a poor excuse like you for a father. She's coming home with me so that she can finish getting better and I'm damn sure that the boys will be coming with me. So you hunt that ghoul and when you come to your senses, you know where we'll be."

Bobby walked away from John Winchester taking Dean, Sam, and Elle back to South Dakota with him in his truck, where they stayed for a couple of weeks, despite John never coming to his senses.

~*~End Flashback~*~

After they had discussed the details about that hospital visit, Elle sat on the very same rock she had seen a younger version of her father sit on. Her father stood with his arms folded across his chest watching the waves crashed upon the shore. Elle looked up to him—he appeared deep in thought. It was now or never.

"Do you love me?" Elle asked timidly.

"You don't know what love is," John responded.

"Answer the question."

"You already know the answer to that."

"Do you love Sam?"

"I think you already know that that answer as well."

"And Dean?"

"Campbell."

"Damnit, Dad. I've tried so hard—trying to be someone that I'm not for you and it will never be enough, will it?"

"Campbell."

"Will I ever be enough for you? Will you ever love me like you love them?"

John didn't say anything.

"It's Elle, by the way," Elle said tearfully. "Those who love me call me Elle."

"Campbell," John sighed

"You don't have to say any more. That's all I needed to hear."

Elle looked up to the stars and sighed. For some reason, the stars seemed to be shining brighter—or maybe it was all in her head. She had expected to feel much worse after her father's declaration. She still obviously felt terrible, but there was something about looking into the night's sky and knowing that somehow she wasn't alone or unloved. That there was something in the stars telling her otherwise. Maybe Sam and Dean could see these stars right now and were thinking about her. She picked up her cellphone; but she still had no bars all the way out here; but at least the thing worked. They were in the right time—but she was curious why her father hadn't left her yet.

"So now what?" Elle asked.

"We get the hell out of Dodge," John said.

"I just need to find some service and then I'll be out of your hair."

"You don't tell your brothers about any of this."

"Tell them what?"

"Exactly."

"Yeah, I'm not sure I can do that. You see, I know that they love me, so I try not to keep things from them."

"You just said—"

"It lasted a moment, kind of like your love for me and then I changed my mind, just like you, because there are people more important to me than you."

She grabbed her bag which was laying in the middle of the grass and slung it over her shoulder and began to head toward the path through the woods.

"Campbell, where are you going?" John called after her.

"I think you already know the answer to that," Elle retorted not even bothering to turn around and face him.

Elle used her cellphone as a light to guide her through the woods. She stumbled to the ground a few times, tearing her jeans and bloodying up her bare feet; but she refused to go to John Winchester for help. He was the last person she wanted help from after what had transpired—although, she knew that Sam and Dean would disagree with her. She would let them have the father who loved them—but to her John Winchester was a good as dead—or at least someone to avoid at all costs. After nearly forty-five minutes of wandering through the woods, she finally made it to the parking lot she had seen back in 1985. The lot had been expanded and repaved since them and the light that burst was repaired—or at least it had been because as Elle walked under the light it exploded again. She threw her hands over her head and flung herself to the hard ground; but nothing happened to her—at least not physically. The voice just repeated the exact same thing that it had many years ago; which made Elle's heart race for a moment—but she was too pissed off to notice.

"Goodbye, Campbell Winchester. We shall meet again."

"It's Elle!" Elle shouted at the sky. "If you're gonna stalk someone at least get their name right!"

She brushed the dirt from her jeans and hands before she continued to follow the path until she got to the highway. At the highway, she had a couple of bars on her cellphone—hopefully enough to make a call if she stood very still. Her first call was to Dean to let him know that she was alive; but they appeared to have their hands full in Oklahoma. So Elle made another phone call to the man who was more of a father than her own father: Bobby Singer. Bobby was quite surprised to get a phone call from her, but he said that in a little over eight hours he would be in the abysmally small town of Rhinelander, Wisconsin to pick her up. Elle walked the four miles, bare foot, until she came upon some sort of civilization. She walked around the tiny town until she found the local grocery store Trig's which was open 24 hours. She hung out in the empty deli seating, watching the Weather Channel, until she fell asleep at the table only to be awoken by a deli worker poking her awake several hours later. Thankfully it was only a few hours until Bobby showed up. He parked his truck and walked out to meet her with a hug, which made Elle's eyes get misty.

"How're you doing, Ellie?" Bobby asked.

"I've been better," Elle said with a sigh before she ran her fingers through her greasy hair.

"I know that look—you've seen your daddy, haven't you?"

"Yeah—I saw him; but I don't really wanna talk about him right now. I just wanna get the hell out of this place."

Elle climbed into Bobby's truck and buckled the seatbelt before Bobby even got back in the truck. The beginning of the ride was rather silent. Bobby filled the truck up with gas and then they had the long ride back to Bobby's place. Apparently, Sam and Dean were going to pick her up in South Dakota. Elle fell asleep for a little bit of the ride, but she woke up during before they got to Wisconsin's border with Minnesota. Elle yawned and sat up, focusing on the road.

"Sam and Dean were worried about you. They called me to see if you ran away from them over something stupid that they did," Bobby said.

"They do stupid things, quite frequently, but not anything to make me run," Elle sighed.

"So how did you end up all the way up here?"

"Honestly, I have no friggin clue. One second I was asleep in the back of the Impala dreaming about that lake and then next thing I know when I wake up I'm actually there and he was there."

"Your daddy?"

"Yeah, him—and then some sort of supernatural being or something. It took us back in time and I got to see the night I finally came into being."

"You sure you didn't hit your head?"

"I'm serious, Bobby. I'd say you could ask him, but he told me to just forget about the whole thing and not tell Sam and Dean."

"Not that I want to side with him, but it might be for the best if you don't tell them."

"You want me to lie to my brothers?"

"Not lie—just withhold information. Let me do a little more research, Ellie. You know how those brothers of yours get."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. Have you ever heard of anything that can do that? I mean—go back in time and weird stuff like that."

"Can't think of anything off the top of my head."

"I mean, it just doesn't make sense."

"Ellie, nothing in this life does."

"It has to be a demon, right?"

"Kiddo—why don't you go back to sleep. I think you could use it."

"Is that supposed to be an insult?"

"I'm not Dean."

With a chuckle, Elle nodded her head before she snuggled back up against the window. When she woke back up, they were in South Dakota and only a few miles from Bobby's place. Elle texted Sam—expecting him to be prompt with his response, but she didn't get one. Weird. Normally, he was so quick with his responses. Maybe he and Dean were undercover doing something or another; either way, she was going to be stuck at Bobby's until they were done with their case. She practically jumped out of Bobby's truck before she walked into the house. Almost as if on instinct, Elle walked to the fridge and pulled out the last beer. After how things had been going for her—she could use a drink. She managed to get the cap off the bottle, despite having a cast on her wrist, when Bobby came and snatched the adult beverage from her hands and took a swig of the drink.

"Bobby, what the hell?"

"Drinking's not gonna help your daddy issues, Ellie."

"No, but it will help my thirst issues."

"There's water in the faucet."

"You've got to be kidding. I'm twenty-one."

"Must've slipped my mind."

"Yeah—sure."

Bobby winked at Elle before she shook her head and wandered around the house. She couldn't help but smile at the dusty collection of Disney movies in a corner. Obviously, Bobby had no use for them—but he had gotten them for her when she spent a few weeks in South Dakota after her hospital visit. Elle took a finger and wiped some of the dust from her movie collection before she wiped the dust on her jeans. She examined what she could of her appearance—noting that that she probably smelled a bit ripe too. She walked upstairs to where she remembered the bathroom being and took a quick shower. As she let the warm water wash over her and refresh her, she heard the bathroom door creak open. Her first instinct was to poke her head out of the shower curtain; but she sheepishly blushed when she noticed Bobby setting some clothes on the sink. He nodded at her before looking away and walking out of the bathroom. When she was finished showering, Elle noticed the clothes on the sink had a feminine look to them which caused her to sigh. Elle knew these had once belonged to Karen, Bobby's wife. They were a bit outdated and bigger than Elle's petite 5'2" frame, but she knew that it meant something that Bobby was letting her borrow them. Of course, he could have done a little better with the matching—but she wasn't going to fault him, he probably just picked out whatever was on top of the place where he stored Karen's things.

Elle put the flowery button-up blouse on, leaving the sleeves unbuttoned and rolling them, so the left sleeve was above her cast. She slightly shuddered at the turquoise stirrup pants that didn't look good on anyone, but they were at least clean—besides, it wasn't like she had to dress to impress anyone. She let her damp hair hang down as it began to dry curly before she walked down the hallway. She saw Bobby's bedroom—with clothes scattered on the floor. She saw the room Sam and Dean shared whenever they came to Bobby's—which wasn't frequently and then she saw the room she stayed in when they came when they were younger. She knew that it was decorated by Karen with all the soft feminine touches. Bobby probably left it decorated as it was to preserve her memory. After tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Elle walked downstairs to find Bobby opening the fridge.

"Wasn't expecting company," Bobby grumbled.

"So you have no food?" Elle asked.

"Well, I have my kind of food."

"You forget that my brothers have polar opposites in food taste. I can stomach almost anything—although, I do prefer Dean's end of the food spectrum."

"We should probably go into town and get something."

"I'd be perfectly content with a pizza. Do they deliver all the way out here?"

"Costs an arm and a leg."

"Give the bill to Dean when he gets here. He made out like a bandit in a recent uh—gig."

Bobby gave in and ordered a pizza. For the next few days, while Sam and Dean continued to work their job in Oklahoma, Elle scoured through any of Bobby's books—hoping to find something—anything on what kind of being could do what happened in Wisconsin. She came up with absolutely nothing. Elle was pointlessly looking through another one of Bobby's books when Sam and Dean finally showed up. She could see them through the window she sat beside. Elle practically ran outside to meet her brothers. She hugged each one of them and gave them kisses on the cheek—which surprised them. Elle wasn't normally so affectionate—which threw both Sam and Dean for a bit of a loop. Elle left her head resting on Dean, in a half-hug when he started to question her.

"What the hell happened to you?" Dean asked.

"Not a clue," Elle responded. "I wish I knew. All I know is that I have never been so grateful in my life to see you two."

"What makes you say that?" Sam asked.

"Nothing, can't I just be glad to see you both?"

"Not that happy," Dean said. "You're not telling us something."

"Dean, you guys must be tired. Let's go inside. Bobby just went grocery shopping so we actually have some beer and—"

"You're rambling."

"No, I'm not."

"Elle—"

"Dean, why do you assume that I'm lying?"

"Because I know you and you're lying straight to my face."

"Well, even you don't know everything about me."

Dean sighed, not wanting to get into things with Elle, especially since he was friggin exhausted having just dealt with a crap ton of bugs in Oklahoma. The Winchester siblings walked into Bobby's house, while Bobby was busy on the phone. Elle took three beers out of the fridge and handed one to each other her brothers before they all sat down at the kitchen table.

"So you ended up all the way in Wisconsin?" Sam asked.

"Yeah—it was weird," Elle responded.

"Maybe this would be a good thing to tell Dad about."

"No!"

Dean cocked his head suspiciously at his sister—noting how quick her response was. Damnit. Elle realized her mistake and now Dean was on to her. She had to do anything she could to back-peddle and get him off her case.

"I mean—Dad wouldn't want to bother himself with anything having to do with me," Elle said.

"You saw Dad, didn't you?" Dean questioned.

"No—no, I didn't."

"Don't lie to me."

Elle looked to Dean—whose eyes were practically flaming. She was caught and she knew it. There was no reason to continue to deny it. She sighed before she looked to her oldest brother.

"I don't want to talk about him."

"Did you or did you not see him?"

"Dean—"

"Answer the question."

"Yes."

"And you were plannin' on hiding that for how long?"

"Until I could process what happened. Dean, none of it makes any sense."

"I don't friggin' care if it doesn't make sense. We're family—and you don't do this to family. I thought that meant something to you."

"It does—I just—"

"Then tell us what happened."

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"Dean—"

"Son-of-a-bitch, Elle—You know, I thought you were different, I thought you understood what we were doing here. But I guess that's all blown to hell."

Dean slammed his beer bottle against the table before he stood up and walked out of the kitchen. Elle called after her brother, but he flipped her off. Sam told her to give him some space and let him cool off; but Elle wasn't so sure that Dean would just get over this. She hardly ever intentionally lied to Dean. Hell, Dean was the one person she was honest with—but she knew she couldn't ever fully explain what happened to her in Wisconsin. It was too complicated—even for her own brain to process.

"Are you pissed?" Elle asked Sam.

"Pissed? No. Confused as hell? Yes." Sam offered.

"You have to understand—I can't explain anything."

"I get that."

"I'm sensing a but—"

"Not really. I can't really justify being mad at you when I'm keeping my own secret."

"Then why is Dean doing this?"

"Because we've been looking for Dad for months—and then you see him and decide that it's not important enough to tell him. I mean really—the whole reason we're all even doing this is to find Dad."

"That's not it and you know it."

"I'm just saying how Dean's seeing things. Why don't you let me go and try and smooth things over?"

"You'd do that?"

"I can't say I agree with what you did—but you're my sister."

Elle sighed as Sam walked outside to go talk with Dean. Bobby finally got off the phone and walked over to her when she was about ready to burst into tears. As if this week hadn't been emotional enough—and here she was at odds with Dean—over as stupid of a thing as their father. Bobby didn't say anything, he just rested a hand on her shoulder. And to top things off—neither she nor Bobby had found anything about whatever that supernatural being was the caused this entire mess. Is this what the thing was hoping to do? Get her at odds with her brother? Well if it was—it succeeded. The front door slammed and Elle saw Dean walk through the door.

"Dean, I'm sorry—I—" Elle stared.

"I don't wanna hear it. I don't really even wanna work with you—but Sammy's convinced that we need you."

"Dean—"

"No, you listen. I've continually stuck my neck out for you and I thought that street went both ways. But I guess things have changed—so don't expect me to be looking to save your ass. You seem to think that you can handle things without me—so here you go."

"That's not what this is about—"

"As far as I'm concerned, this conversation is over. Get in the car—don't get in the car—I don't friggin care and don't expect me to."

"But the fact that you're acting like this says otherwise."

"Don't push me. I can always leave your ass here."

"You know what? Let me do you a favor—"

Elle stomped away to the staircase where she sat down, practically seething in anger.

"Fine!" Dean shouted. "Sammy, I'm leaving now. Either you're coming with me or staying with her."

Sam opened the front door and looked to Elle in confusion.

"What the hell? How the hell did you two escalate this even further?" Sam asked.

"He's being stupid," Elle said. "And stubborn."

"You both are."

"I'm younger and more immature; I'm supposed to be that way."

"Are you really staying?"

"Yeah—I am so don't try and change my mind."

"It's not really fair the position you both are putting me in."

"Now you know how I feel."

"Elle—"

"I won't hold it against you if you go with him. I swear."

"Why don't I believe that?"

"Just give me a call when he stops being an ass."

The engine from the Impala roared and Sam looked to Elle.

"Go on," Elle sighed.

Sam placed a kiss on the top of his little sister's head before he rushed outside and barely made it in the car before Dean took off. Bobby was startled to see Elle still sitting on the steps. She told him that she didn't want to talk about it—instead, she walked upstairs to the room that she had been staying in and plopped onto the bed in frustration. Why was it that things got bad they always got worse? She could hardly believe the crappy situation she was in—and it wasn't even her fault. Knowing that no one was there to judge her—Elle let her sobs over take her until she had softly cried herself to sleep.


	10. Home

A depressed Elle sat on Bobby's couch in sweatpants and an over-sized t-shirt with a pint of ice cream resting against the cast on her wrist and a spoon hanging from her mouth. Her hair was in a greasy mess of a bun, a bag of Cheetos lay discarded beside her on the couch, and the floor was littered with empty cans of soda since Bobby refused to buy any more alcohol for her. Her cellphone remained on the table beside the couch as she desperately waited for a phone call that hadn't yet come. Despite Bobby's best attempts to distract her, Elle found herself going back to her Disney phase with the VHS tapes that stood in a pile of dust. Currently, she was drowning her sorrows watching The Little Mermaid. Ironically, she felt that she could relate to Ariel. Sure, she didn't have the red hair or the sea shell bikini; but she did know a thing or two about wanting to belong to a world that wasn't her own. If she had a normal life, none of this would have happened. Her father wouldn't hate her for being an abomination that existed while her mother was dead. Dean wouldn't be pissed at her for keeping her father's visit a secret—nor would Sam and Dean be on the road hunting some monster of the week. And to top it all off—she still didn't have a clue what zapped her back to Wisconsin and the past with her father. Overall, life sucked. She really couldn't see how things could possibly get any worse—but at least she had the ice cream to numb the pain. Elle took another large spoonful of her cookie dough ice cream and shoveled it into her mouth—staring almost blankly at the singing crustacean on the screen. Bobby walked through the front door and shook his head at the sight. Make no mistake—he loved that little girl, even though she wasn't so little any more, but having her there sitting on her sorry ass wasn't helping him or her. He gruffly walked over and took the pint of ice cream out of her hands. Too depressed to even react appropriately, Elle sighed and looked to the television once more. Slightly miffed, Bobby walked back to the kitchen and got himself a tall glass of ice water before he went back to the living room and dumped the freezing cold water on Elle. Elle screamed and jumped off the couch, now cold and wet. She stood with water dripping off her onto the wood flooring and a pissed-off expression at Bobby

"What the hell, Bobby!" Elle hissed.

"It's for your own good, Ellie," Bobby responded. "You haven't left that couch in days."

"Yeah I did—I had to get up to get the ice cream from the freezer."

"Well, excuse me for leaving that out," Bobby said quite sarcastically. "But I mean it, Ellie. There's always a reaction to an action and right now you're just dealing with the fallout."

"No—I'm reacting to a reaction and with your logic it's perfectly normal."

"Think of how you're letting your daddy win. Don't let him do it."

"He hates me, Bobby. There's no way around that."

"Did he say those words?"

"You know John doesn't know how to use his words."

"Ellie, I don't want to be the one to make excuses for him—"

"Then don't. Please don't. It's bad enough having one Winchester hate you, but two is practically unbearable."

"Dean doesn't hate you. He's pissed, but he doesn't hate you."

"Then why hasn't Sam called?"

"I thought you didn't want excuses."

"I don't but—"

"Then, I mean this in the kindest way possible, Ellie—but get the hell out of my house."

"You're kicking me out?"

"Temporarily—the outside world hasn't seen you in days, kiddo. Some fresh air might do you some good."

"Very subtle," Elle responded sarcastically.

"Never said I was trying to be—now, out you go."

Bobby pushed Elle toward the door, causing her to trip over the leg of an old armchair. She picked herself back up and walked out the door—in her socks, not even bothering to put any shoes on. The sun was beginning to set—apparently, she had wasted almost another entire day in front of Bobby's television set. Elle meandered through the matted-down grass path, weaving in and out of old abandoned cars. She found an old, junked Chevy pick-up and attempted to climb onto the hood of the truck. Of course, given Elle's height—or lack thereof—it took her several tries before she finally made it on the hood of the old rusted red pile of crap. For a moment, she just sat there trying to catch her breath—but eventually she leaned back so that her head rested against the windshield, careful to not lay her head in the bird poop. Although, it wasn't too long before she started feeling sorry for herself. Stupid John. Stupid Dean. Semi-stupid Sam. Stupid whatever the hell kind of monster had decided to intrude on her life.

"Gah! You really made a mess of things down here! I don't have a friggin clue who or what you are—but when I do—you'd better be ready to deal with me!" Elle shouted toward the sky but there was no response. "I mean it—because now that I think about it, you've been messing with my life for a while now! Those dreams? They were you, weren't they? Why? Why me? Answer me, damnit!"

Again there was silence.

"I know you're listening somewhere out there! And it's creepy as hell! Just like you!"

Elle sat there breathing heavily for a moment—feeling completely helpless. Here she was—without her brothers to help her figure this out, then again, she wasn't sure she could tell them about this. Bobby didn't have any answers for her and neither did his books. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Just when she thought that she got some answers—she was left with more questions. Questions that she wasn't sure how to go about getting answered—especially considering it took her this long to get the answers she originally wanted. Elle buried her face on the knees of her sweatpants, allowing the fabric to soak up her tears. Maybe she wasn't ready to be back on the road with Sam and Dean—right now she was far too emotional for that and everyone knew that emotions only got in the way of being a hunter. Maybe this could be her time to get out of the family business. Hell, Sam had done it once. Granted, he got pulled back in—but right now, given the complications between her, Dean, and her lame-excuse for a father—maybe they would just leave her alone. After all—she was only twenty-one—not exactly old by the normal world's standards. Maybe she could go to college like Sam did. Although, getting ahold of her school records might be tricky; but maybe Bobby could help her forge some stuff. But where the hell would she go to school? Or where would she get the money? Well, if she resorted to Dean's methods—money shouldn't be too hard to come by. But just as she was beginning to formulate her way out—Bobby's voice began faintly calling for her. With a sigh, Elle jumped off the pick-up and walked back toward Bobby's house. He was standing just outside the front door with her cellphone.

"You got a phone call," Bobby said. "It's your brother."

"Sam?" Elle breathed.

Her fleeting plans dissipated as she practically flew up the stairs and took her phone from Bobby's hands. He nodded his head before he walked back inside, giving Elle some privacy. She found an old bench around the corner of the house which she sat down on cross-legged. She exhaled slowly before the put the phone up to her ear with a small smile on her face.

"Hello?" Elle asked.

"Hey, Elle-Belle," Sam responded.

"Sam, it's good to hear from you. I was beginning to think that you'd never call me. I mean we both know Dean can be stubborn—"

"Elle, Dean's still pissed."

"Oh—then why are you calling? Calling to see if I'm doing okay?"

"Not exactly. I wanted to see if you had Dad's journal."

"So, let me get this right—you haven't called me since you left and the only reason you're doing so now is because you lost John Winchester's stupid ramblings? Thanks. You sure know how to make someone feel really loved."

"Elle, that's not how it is and you know it. Now, do you have it or not?"

"If I do, it would be in my bag which is in the house."

"Can you check—please?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Elle trudged slowly into the house and upstairs to the spare bedroom she had hardly occupied where she had left her bag. She picked it up and dug through it as she sat on the freshly-made bed. Sure enough, right in the side pocket was her so-called father's journal. She groaned as she thumbed through a few of the pages. How could a man who wanted to save people and hunt these things—be so unloving toward her? Why couldn't he just let himself care for her? Elle felt her chest tighten when Sam's voice drew her out of her reverie.

"Elle you find it?" Sam asked.

"Yeah—I got it," Elle said hoarsely.

"Good. I need to ask a big favor of you."

"What?"

"I need you to come to Lawrence."

"Like Lawrence, Kansas? Where everything started?"

"Yeah. That Lawrence—at the old house and there's definitely something here. We could really use you down here, Elle. It's an all hands on deck situation."

"Does Dean want me to come?"

"I really don't give a crap what Dean wants. I want you here."

"A few months ago I never thought I'd hear those words come out of your mouth."

"Well, a few months ago you were kinda a bitch to me."

"Is calling me a bitch supposed to make me want to come? Because—"

"Elle, please, there's some creepy stuff going on. While Dean probably won't admit it— we both need you down here."

"I—I—"

"Just get down here as fast as you can—and don't forget the journal."

Dean could be heard telling Sam to get off the phone and asking who he was talking to before the call was ended. Elle sat there with the phone still against her cheek for a moment before she slowly lowered it into her lap. She should be the bigger person and go—but she wasn't honestly sure she wanted to. Although, Sam did sound freaked out. She should be there for him. Like she had been there for Dean when she was fighting with Sam. Why was it that she always had to have one of her brothers pissed off at her? Then her thoughts went to how Dean behaved when he was pissed-off, a feeling she herself hadn't been forced to deal with—but she had seen plenty of others having to deal with Dean's wrath. It wasn't really something that she wanted to put herself out there for—maybe she'd just wait a little bit. She could tell Sam that she got lost—or a flat tire—or Bobby had another case for her. The list of excuses not to go was growing rapidly. Elle pocketed her cellphone before she headed outside where Bobby was burning something in a barrel out back. This time she made sure to put shoes on before going outside. She found Bobby stoking the fire as she stopped across the barrel from him.

"What'd Sam want?" Bobby asked.

"Nothing," Elle said wrapping her arms around her waist.

"You're really gonna lie to me, Ellie?"

"He wanted me to come help him and Dean in Lawrence."

"Lawrence—as in—"

"Yeah, apparently there's something in their old house that has them both kinda freaked."

"Something that scares both Sam and Dean? You know that's got to be something serious then. When are you headed out?"

"I don't know that I am going—I mean, I have no business going to Lawrence. The place means nothing to me."

"It means nothing to you? It's the place where—"

"I died—or should have died—or something. Yeah, I haven't forgotten."

"I was thinking more along the lines of where you lost your momma."

"A momma I never knew. How can you miss something you never had?"

"If you'd quit feeling sorry for yourself, you'd realize that Sam's in the same boat as you are. He never knew Mary either—aside from the first sixth months of his life which don't really count."

"I guess you're right."

"I know I'm right. Besides, you won't have any of those movies of yours to watch anyway."

"Why?"

"What do you think I'm burning right now?"

Elle's eyes flashed down to into the barrel of fire to see the last bits of black VHS tape melting. Poor Chip, Flounder, and Abu—they didn't deserve such a cruel end. Not to mention that now even if she wanted to go to Lawrence, she couldn't bring the tapes to annoy the crap out of Dean. With a sigh, Elle looked back up to Bobby who stood there smiling—this was probably therapeutic for him, given how many times she had watched those movies the past few days. In a way—she had been trying to relive the childhood she never had—never had because of what happened in Lawrence, Kansas. Bobby walked over to Elle and wrapped an arm around her shoulder before he gently kissed the top of her head of greasy hair. She loved Bobby for this—but this was something she had always wanted from John. She could feel her eyes beginning to well up with tears, but she refused to let them fall—not for John Winchester. Bobby told her that she could spend one last night but she needed to go to her brothers in the morning. He said that he'd find a car for her that she could just sell for cash later—although, Elle wasn't so sure that she'd be selling.

Bobby and Elle stayed outside underneath the stars, sipping beer, beside the fire barrel for warmth. Elle remained rather quiet as she sipped the one bottle of beer Bobby let her have. If this had been one of her brothers he wouldn't have rationed their beer supply, but there really wasn't much she could do about it. Instead, she looked up to the night's sky where the stars were twinkling overhead. The starry night's sky used to be one of her favorite sights—but now, she almost felt a sense of contempt toward it. She figured she was probably just being stupid for hating it now, but there was something out there and that was all the night's sky now reminded her of. When the fire finally died, Elle and Bobby went inside his house. Elle showered before practically collapsing in exhaustion on the bed. How could one be so tired from doing absolutely nothing for days? Either way—she quickly fell asleep only to have her dreams plague her. The scene at the lake flashed through her mind's eye and the scenes continued to taunt her. When she woke-up, she was probably more tired than when she went to sleep. She was just about to try and go back to sleep when Bobby knocked on the door and told her that breakfast was ready.

Slowly, Elle got out of bed and got dressed for the day in a pair of jeans and a Winchester trademark plaid shirt. She went downstairs and found the Bobby made some scrambled eggs for her. She went to the fridge and pulled out the remaining salsa before dumping it over her eggs. After breakfast, she made sure she had all her belongings before she followed Bobby outside where he had a blue '94 Pontiac Grand Prix waiting for her. It wasn't exactly her favorite make and model—but it would get her from point A to point B—or at least she hoped it did. Bobby hugged her goodbye and told her to be good—not to give Sam and Dean too much trouble—and to not let John Winchester's assiness control her emotions. Sometimes, Bobby had quite the way with words—assiness. Ha! Elle slid into the driver's seat of the car and turned it on before she placed the directions Bobby had written for her on the dash with tape. While she still didn't really want to go to Lawrence, she knew that Bobby wanted her to go—and if there was one person besides Sam or Dean that Elle hated to disappoint, it was Bobby. Elle waved goodbye once more before she put the car into drive and pulled out of Bobby's driveway. She was no more than ten miles from Bobby's place when she got stuck behind a mail truck—ugh. When the mail truck pulled over—Elle pulled over. She couldn't exactly remember the rules for mail trucks. Usually if she had a question when she was driving, Dean was sleeping right beside her—but not this time. So when the mail truck pulled back onto the road, Elle pulled out her cellphone and called the one person she thought wouldn't harshly judge her.

"Sam, can I pass a mail truck?" Elle asked.

"What?" Sam questioned.

"A mail truck—you know, when I'm driving can I pass it?"

"Really? You're calling to ask me if you can—"

"Yes! I've stopped behind him three times now when he pulls over to deliver people's mail."

Sam's laugh roared through the phone which caused Elle to jerk her head away.

"I mean it Sam—can I?"

"Yes, of course you can," Sam responded with a sniffle which was obviously from the tears in his eyes from laughing so hard so Elle quickly pulled out from behind the mail truck and passed it. "Have you really been stopping behind it?"

"Yeah. I wasn't sure whether or not mail trucks were like buses—that you can't pass them when they stop."

"Oh, god." Sam continued to laugh his ass off.

"It's not funny. I don't want to get in trouble with the law."

"I would have thought since Dean taught you do drive, you'd be a little more reckless like him."

"I am being reckless—I passed a mail truck, am going five miles over the speed limit, and talking on the phone."

"Talk about being a rebel," Sam mocked. "You do realize that they won't pull you over unless you're going more than seven over, right? Then again, maybe they'll pull you over for stalking a mail truck first."

Elle groaned as Sam continued to laugh. Without even saying goodbye she hung up on him and his laughter before she tossed her phone onto the passenger seat. She then turned the radio up to a station she knew that Dean would despise. Kelly Clarkson's Since U Been Gone blared through the speakers to which Elle sang her lungs out to. While she didn't exactly know what it was like to break-up with a guy, she found parts of the song very relatable to her current situation with her brother. The rest of her musical selection consisted of some Gwen Stefani, Green Day, Black Eyed Peas, Maroon 5, Backstreet Boys—basically anything on the radio she knew that Dean would hate. For a moment, she wondered if the only reason she liked the music was because she knew that Dean didn't. Was she subconsciously setting herself up for another fight with Dean? When she reached Omaha she compromised to find a music station that played both classic rock and the hits of today. It was slightly odd to hear Eye of the Tiger followed by Don't Cha, but she supposed the station wouldn't exist if there wasn't a desire for it. She was ten miles from Lawrence when she texted Sam asking where they were. Sam gave her directions to Guenther's Auto Repair—where he and Dean were on their way to go meet with the owner of the garage. Surprisingly, Elle found the place without too much difficulty—well to be honest, she found the Impala before she found the garage, but they were both in the same vicinity so she counted it as a win. Elle parked the Grand Prix behind the Impala before she walked to the garage where she found Sam and Dean talking with a man. Dean noticed her first, but he quickly looked away from her without making eye contact. Sam was the one who motioned her to come over. So rather reluctantly, she walked over to her older brothers.

"Sorry, I'm late," Elle grumbled. "The drive from Omaha was longer than expected. Where were we?"

"We were just asking him about John Winchester's disappearance," Sam responded.

"Oh, him."

"So you and John Winchester, you used to own this garage together?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, we used to, a long time ago. Matter of fact, it must be uh—twenty years since John disappeared," the owner responded.

"More like twenty-one," Elle added to which Dean gave her a sharp look.

"Now that I think about it—that sounds about right. So why the cops interested all of a sudden?"

"We're—uh—reopening some of our unsolved cases, and the Winchester disappearance is one of 'em," Dean said.

"Oh, well what do you wanna know about John?"

"Whatever you remember—you know, whatever sticks out in your mind."

"Well, he was a stubborn bastard, I remember that."

"Really, you don't say?" Elle scoffed before Sam elbowed her and Dean narrowed his eyes at her. "I mean—judging from the little research we have, that fact seemed quite obvious."

"What else? Uh—whatever the game, he hated to lose, you know? It's the whole Marine thing. But oh he sure loved Mary. And he doted on those kids. He was actually taking on extra hours before—"

"Before the fire?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, that's right. I wasn't supposed to know—but he was too excited to keep it a secret. Mary was pregnant again and John said Mary had a feeling that it was going to be a girl and he believed her. I never thought he'd be so excited to have a girl—but he had even started building her a dollhouse. Said that if it ended up being another boy—he'd just sell the thing for some extra cash. Never did finish it though. It really killed him to lose Mary and the baby that night."

Elle's breath hitched at the mention of her—before she had been born. Her father had wanted her. If her mother hadn't died—would she have gotten the father she had always longed for? Would he really have let her play with dolls instead of guns? As Elle choked up, she had to turn slightly away claiming that she needed some water because she was choking—to which the man pointed her toward the refrigerator where he kept some bottled water. But really, Elle fought hard against the tears. Why was every little thing making her so emotional lately? Why didn't she just come with an off switch? As Elle reached for a water bottle, she continued to listen to the conversation between her brothers and the garage owner.

"He ever talk about that night?" Sam asked.

"No—not at first. I think he was in shock," the shop owner responded.

"Right, but eventually? What did he say about it?"

"He wasn't thinkin' straight. Kept going on about how something caused the fire and killed Mary and the baby."

"He ever say what did it?" Dean asked.

"Nothin' did it. It was an accident—an electrical short in the ceiling or walls or somethin'. I begged him to get some help but—"

"But what?"

"He just got worse and worse."

"Worse how?"

"Oh—he started readin' these strange ol' books. Started goin' to see this palm reader in town."

"Palm reader? You wouldn't happen to have a name, would you?"

"No. But I'm sure she's got to be involved because by January of '84, John and those boys were gone and the last one to see 'em was that damn palm reader."

"Thank you for your time. Your information had been very—uh-insightful," Sam said holding his hand out to shake.

Dean shook the man's hand before Elle walked closer; but before she even reached them, Dean walked away. Talk about the cold shoulder. Elle thanked the man for the water before she walked outside beside Sam. Elle took another drink of water as they walked outside. Dean was already at the Impala as Sam and Elle slowly walked over there.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Elle said.

"Just ignore him—it's what we used to do," Sam said with a shrug.

"No, it's what you used to do. Dean and I haven't really fought like this before."

"If it's any consolation, I think he's just pissed that you showed up before Dad did. He called Dad when I called you."

"Really? Were you just going to keep the fact that I could have run into Dad a secret?"

"I'm not delusional enough to think Dad would actually show."

"So now what do we do?"

"We get down to the bottom of this—together."

"Try telling that to Dean."

"Just don't do anything to piss him off and believe me, I know it's going to take everything in you to not."

"I make no guarantees."

"Where's the car you stole?"

"I didn't steal a car—Bobby gave it to me and it's the Grand Prix behind the Impala."

"Maybe you should bring a peace offering."

Sam tossed Elle the phone book out of the lone phone booth before they got to the Impala. Elle groaned at the sight of the phone book—but she supposed it couldn't hurt to at least attempt to appease Dean—despite how much her insides were screaming that Dean just needed to get over it. But instead, Sam opened the back door to the Impala for her and motioned for her to get in. Rather hesitantly, Elle slid into her usual spot. It was as if nothing had changed. Her stuffed Tigger was right where she left him from the moment she had been uh—taken. While Dean wouldn't look back at her directly, Elle could tell that he was looking at her through the rearview mirror. But Elle bit her tongue and began paging through the phone book as Sam slid in the backseat with her. Elle looked to Sam and smiled—he was protecting her from big bad Dean.

"What are you smiling about?" Dean grunted.

"I—uh—" Elle faltered.

"Some of the names of the psychics and palm readers are hilarious," Sam responded for her. "Elle showed me Mysterious Mister Fortinsky."

"El Divino's pretty good too," Elle added with a chuckle.

"Then there's this one name Missouri Moseley—"

"Wait. Wait. Missouri? Missouri Moseley?" Dean asked.

"What about it?" Elle asked.

"That's a psychic, Sam?" Dean asked, ignoring Elle.

"Yeah—I guess so. What about her?" Sam asked.

"Can you ask Elle is she brought Dad's journal?"

"I'm right here you know—" Elle retorted before Sam elbowed her shaking his head, which caused her to groan.

"Elle, do you have Dad's journal?" Sam asked.

"Why yes, Sam, I do have the journal. I'll just get it out of my bag—and give it to Sam."

Elle dug in her bag once again and pulled John Winchester's journal out. She specifically handed the journal to Sam before giving Dean a fake smile. Dean muttered an obscenity under his breath before he reached back and snatched the journal from Sam's hands.

"This is stupid," Dean hissed.

"You're the one that started the stupidness," Elle shot back.

"At least I ain't the liar."  
"I didn't lie. I withheld information—which I thought you said wasn't a lie."

"Enough!" Sam shouted. "I can put up with you two bickering constantly, but not this crap. Dean, I'm gonna tell you what you told me and Elle—get over it so we can get through this case. This case means something…"

"Because you're the one having psychic visions about it," Dean scoffed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Elle asked.

"You mean Sammy didn't tell you? So would that be lying or just withholding information?"

"Dean! Grow up man," Sam shouted.

"I'm the one who had to grow up to friggin raise you two," Dean scoffed under his breath.

"What's he talking about, Sam? Visions?" Elle asked innocently.

"Elle-Belle, I promise I'll tell you—later. Now, we're all going to act like the rational adults I know we can be because we need to save some innocents-Dean, what was it about Missouri Moseley that caught your attention?"

"It's here in Dad's journal," Dean sighed as he opened to the front page of the journal. "First sentence."

"I went to Missouri and I learned the truth," Sam read.

"John Winchesters famous first words," Elle sighed.

"I always thought he meant the state," Dean added.

"You think Dad went to a psychic?" Sam asked.

"It makes sense," Elle added, which caused Dean to do a double-take. "I may be pissed at you for being pissed at me—but I know a plausible theory when I hear one. I mean think about—the man just lost his wife pinned to the ceiling in a fire: creepy as hell. Of course the cops weren't going to give him the time of day. It's logical—to do anything to get some answers, any answers. Especially after losing the love of your life."

"And your unborn child," Sam added.

Elle's thoughts flew back to that night in Wisconsin. She wanted to pour everything she had learned about that night to her brothers. Tell them how she had come into existence. Tell them much of an ass John had been to her then and now—but she kept her mouth shut because Bobby's words rang through her head. It wasn't going to do her brothers any use to get them riled up, especially when they were no closer to figuring the mystery out. Elle sighed before she rested her head back on the seat as Dean suddenly started the car. Without saying anything, Dean put the car into drive and drove them to the psychic's house. As the Winchesters walked up the stairs to Missouri's house, Elle felt a shiver go up her back. She shook her head, which caused her curls to bounce a bit before she followed Sam and Dean inside the house. A bell rang as they walked through the door—a voice in the back could be heard telling them to have a seat and wait. So, all three Winchesters had a seat on the couch. Dean and Elle made sure to use Sam as a buffer in between them, which he wasn't too happy about, but neither Dean nor Elle responded to his complaints. They didn't say a single word—just sat there silently. The silence was almost unbearable. Elle braided her hair into several little braids before she shook them out—that was how bored she was. Finally, an older woman walked past them escorting a man out of the house. She told the man not to worry about a thing—that his wife was crazy about him before she closed the front door behind him. The woman then turned toward them and shook her head.

"Whew! Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin' the gardener," the woman presumably named Missouri said.

"Then why didn't you tell him that?" Dean asked.

"People don't come here for the truth. They come here for good news. Right, Dean? Well, come on back you three. I ain't got all day, you know."

Dean kinda looked at the woman with a puzzled expression as she looped her arm through Dean's, forcing Dean to escort her to the back. Both Sam and Elle couldn't help but smile as Dean looked back at them with a funny face directed at his younger siblings—to which Missouri responded that she wasn't blind. This caused Sam and Elle to actually laugh—which made Missouri laugh. The only one not laughing was Dean. Missouri stopped them in the next room and took a good look at all three of them—starting with the oldest.

"Well, lemme look at ya," Missouri laughed. "You boys grew up to be handsome. And you—Dean—were one goofy-lookin' kid too."

Sam and Elle smirked at each other while Dean glared at Missouri before he moved onto Sam, grabbing his hand.

"Sammy—oh honey, I'm so sorry about your girlfriend."

The three Winchesters looked to each other in shock which caused Missouri to chuckle lowly. Her eyes then turned to Elle. The woman laid her hand across her heart and sighed.

"Bless my soul," the woman said. "I heard through the wires what that guardian angel of yours did all those years ago—but I never thought that in my lifetime I'd get to lay eyes on Campbell Winchester—or should I say Elle. Oh, Baby, come here."

The woman enveloped Elle in a bone-crushing hug. She felt like the woman was going to cause her to break a kidney. For a moment, Elle just stood there awkwardly looking back at Sam and Dean. Sam motioned with his head for Elle to return the hug, so Elle awkwardly reached her arm around and patted the woman's back. The woman took a step back from her—and Elle was surprised to see that the woman's eyes were glossy with tears—over her. Elle wasn't quite sure how to respond, but Missouri smiled and tugged gently at Elle's curls before speaking.

"Baby, you're so beautiful—just like your momma. But I suppose this isn't a visit to discuss Elle. Well, I know it's not. You're here about your daddy—he's missing?"

"How'd you know all that?" Sam asked.

"Well, you were just thinkin' 'bout your daddy just now."

"Well, where is he then? Is he okay?" Dean asked.

"I don't know."

"Don't know? Well, you're supposed to be a psychic, right?"

"You're really questioning her?" Elle asked.

"It's okay, baby—" Missouri started. "He just wants to see me sawin' some bony tramp in half. Well, what do you think I am? A magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room but I can't just pull facts out of thin air. Now, why don't you sit."

Missouri motioned them to sit down. Without hesitation, Dean almost instantly plopped onto the couch. Sam sat beside him. Elle, not wanting to sit by Dean, moved to a chair beside Missouri's. The older woman smiled at Elle—again, she wasn't sure how to respond. The woman seemed to know things about her—things that they had kept secret for so long. But this could also prove to be dangerous—especially if she could read thoughts. She tried not to think about what happened in Wisconsin—but it always seemed that when you told yourself not to do something—that's always when you seemed to do it. Thankfully, Missouri chastising Dean for being about to put his feet on the table distracted her. Dean seemed to grumble at how well the lady could read his thoughts which only gave Sam and Elle a reason to smile.

"Baby, it's good to see you smiling," Missouri said.

Elle nodded her head, but thankfully she didn't have to voice a response because Sam cut in.

"Okay. So, our dad—when did you first meet him?" Sam asked.

"John came for a reading—a few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say—I drew back the curtains for him," Missouri responded.

"What about the fire? Do you know about what killed our mom?" Dean asked.

"A little—your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin' I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing."

"Could you?" Elle asked.

Missouri sighed and shook her head.

"What was it?" Elle continued.

"I—I don't know, baby. Oh, but it was evil," Missouri finished.

"We already knew that much," Dean added. "We just need to figure out if the thing is back."

"So—you think somethin' is back in that house?"

"Definitely," Sam stated.

"I don't understand."

"Understand what?"

"I haven't been back inside, but I've been keepin' an eye on the place and it's been quiet. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it actin' up now?"

"I don't know, but by Dad going missing…"

"Well, Elle's seen him," Dean inserted.

"Yeah, saw him. I left him in northern Wisconsin," Elle retorted. "Besides, it's not like either of us were there because we wanted to be there.

"I hate it when you two won't let me finish," Sam growled. "As I was saying—with Dad missing and Jess dying and now this house all happening at once—it just feels like something's starting."

"That's a comforting thought," Dean and Elle said sarcastically simultaneously.

Both Dean and Elle looked to each other in shock—that they had the same response. Just because they had been apart for a bit, didn't change the general nature of their relationship. Elle's eyes quickly averted to the floor before Dean killed the slight moment of normalcy. Elle thought she noticed Missouri smiling between the two siblings before she stood up. Dean opened his mouth to speak before Missouri held her palm out to stop him from talking.

"Honey—way ahead of you on that one. Just let me go get my bag."

As Missouri walked out of the room—Dean muttered the word creepy to which Missouri responded that her ears worked perfectly fine. Dean rolled his eyes as Sam playfully smacked him on the back. As they walked outside, Missouri led them to the Impala and she climbed into the front passenger seat.

"Maybe she really is psychic," Dean commented.

"This used to be your daddy's car. I didn't need to be psychic to assume he passed it on to you," Missouri responded.  
"And don't use that kind of language in front of me."

"I didn't even say anything."

"No, but I know what you were thinking."

Elle was pretty sure she heard Dean mutter son-of-a-bitch as he started the engine of the Impala. Elle's stomach began to twist. She wasn't really sure that she wanted to see the house. It was the place she should have died—well, technically did die—it was so confusing she couldn't even fully process it. She had only the seen the place in the pictures that still survived from before she was born. But the place was easily recognizable as they pulled up in front of the house. Elle's thoughts began to race—but she tried to clear her thoughts because she didn't want Missouri to think she was weak—but it must not have worked because Missouri looked back at Elle and gave her a smile. Elle nodded her head—trying to say that she was fine without actually saying it—but she wasn't very convincing. She slowly got out of the Impala and followed behind her brothers and the psychic. Dean knocked against the door before they waited for someone to come to the door. A few moments later a frazzled-looking blonde woman holding her young son on her hip answered the door. The woman looked confused for a moment—but apparently, she had already met Sam and Dean.

"Sam, Dean—what are you two doing here?"

"Hey Jenny," Sam said. "This is our friend, Missouri and our kid sister, Elle."

"Pain-in-the-ass kid sister," Dean commented. "But uh—if it's not too much trouble, we were hoping to show 'em the old house. You know, for time's sake."

"You know, this isn't a good time. I'm kind of busy—" Jenny started.

"Listen, Jenny, it's important," Dean said before Missouri smacked him on the back of the head. "Ow! That hurt!"

"Give the poor girl a break, can't you see she's upset?" Missouri said to Jenny. "Forgive this boy, he means well, he does—he's just not the sharpest tool in the shed, but hear me out."

"About what?" Jenny asked.

"About this house."

"What are you talking about?"

"I think you know what I'm talking about. You think there's something in this house, something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?"

"Who are you?"

"We're people who can help, who can stop this thing. But you're gonna have to trust us—just a little."

Jenny looked at them with an unsure expression on her face, but when her daughter Sari ran to the door the woman knew she had to do whatever she could to protect her children. The woman placed a kiss against her son's cheek before she allowed them entrance into her house. Elle wasn't so sure that she wanted to go inside, but Missouri wouldn't go inside unless she did. Elle took a deep breath before she crossed the threshold. Logically, she knew that things in the house had to be different because of the fire; but she couldn't help but wonder what the place had looked like when her mother, father, and brothers had lived here. Missouri then leads them up the stairs. Elle followed last in the procession before they veered off into the little girl's room.

"If there's a dark energy around here—this should be the center of it," Missouri said.

"Why?" Sam and Elle both asked, Dean's eyes just averted to the ground.

"Because, this used to be Sam's nursery. This is where it all happened."

Elle glanced up at the ceiling and suddenly she found herself short of breath. Just push thought it. She needed to just push through it like she always did. But his was too personal. It was too much. A very light-headed Elle fled the bedroom and practically flew downstairs onto the front porch. Elle slowly slid down the siding and onto the floor of the porch—breathing slowly. In. Out. In. Out. But distracting herself with her breathing didn't do anything to help her raging emotions.

"No tears. No tears. I'm not gonna cry. I'm not gonna cry like a little girl."

But telling herself not to cry seemed to only have the opposite effect. Soon big tears began to run down her face—which pissed her off on top of everything.

"Damnit! Keep it together, Elle. You're a Winchester. You've spent years keeping your shit together. Now isn't the time to go soft."

She was so focused on trying to stop crying that she didn't even realize how justified her tears were—especially given the emotional roller coaster she had been on the past few weeks since her adventure in northern Wisconsin. Elle roughly wiped at the tears that were on her cheeks. Little Sari must have overheard her freak-out, because when Elle quieted down, the little girl ran outside with a Kleenex box before she quickly ran back inside. Elle managed a slight chuckle before she grabbed a tissue to blow her nose—not even noticing her older brother come outside and sit on the porch beside her.

"You okay, Elle-Belle?" Sam asked.

"Did Missouri tell you to check on me?" Elle asked.

"No—I'm a big brother which is about as close to psychic as you can get," Sam teased. "Besides, you kinda freaked up there."

"If you were me you would have freaked too."

"Elle, it's where Mom died—I get it. I do."

"It's not just that, Sam. It's where I died. I died here too. The flames that pinned Mom to that ceiling trapped me there too. And yet-"

"You're not dead—you're here. Everything happens for a reason, Elle-Belle."

"For reasons I can't comprehend."

"You know something—don't you?"

"We've been over this. It's the whole reason I'm fighting with Dean."

"No, you're fighting with Dean because you didn't tell him about Dad. I think this is something different."

"Well—it's all related and I can't talk about it."

"Ok."

"Ok? You're really ok with me not saying anything?"

"I'm ok with you making a decision if it's to protect us. I get that kind of decision. But I think we both know that in this life—things don't stay hidden for long."

Sam stood up and offered a hand to help his baby sister up—which she accepted. He then quickly hugged her—which surprisingly seemed to bring an added calm to the situation. She stayed close to Sam's side as they went back inside, but thankfully only for a few minutes. She knew that they'd be back though. According to what she overheard in the conversation in the car back to Missouri's there was multiple spirits in the house and one that wasn't going to rest until Jenny and her children were dead. However, Missouri had just the trick that should work against those spirits. Back at Missouri's house they gathered supplies including: Angelica Root, Van Van oil, crossroad dirt, and a few other odds and ends. Missouri packed the items into crates at the Winchesters watched.

"So—what exactly are we supposed to do with this stuff?" Dean asked.

"We're gonna put them inside the walls in the north, south, east, west corners on each floor of the house," Missouri responded.

"We'll be punchin' holes in the dry wall. Jenny's gonna love that."

"She'll live—beside, I'm sure the punching will help that aggression you have toward your sister."

"Well, my aggression is well-deserved."

"I wouldn't be so sure—but that's all I'm sayin' on the matter."

"This will—uh—destroy the spirits?" Sam asked.

"It should," Missouri said. "It should purify the house completely. We'll need to split up between the three floors—but we work fast. Once the spirits realize what we're up to, things are gonna get bad."

"Guess the saying about things getting worse before they get better is accurate then," Elle sighed clearly meaning more than just the current situation.

"Sam, Dean—you can do the heavy lifting—" Missouri started.

"None of this stuff is heavy," Dean commented.

"Just do as you're told, child and us ladies will be outside in a minute when we're good and ready."

Dean looked slightly offended but he still picked up one of the crates on the kitchen table. Sam moved for the other one without saying a word. Elle began to feel nervous. Missouri probably had a reason for keeping her—she almost felt like she had been a bad kid asked to stay after class—not that that scenario actually happened often. She squirmed in her seat as Missouri sat down across the table from her and reached her hand to grasp Elle's. Elle's eyes glanced toward the woman for a brief moment before she turned her gaze away. She just practically feel the woman's heart going out to her—which was an uncomfortable situation. Normally, it was Elle who was empathizing people. Normally, she bottled everything inside—but apparently, Missouri could easily read what she had bottled-up.

"I know you're wanting to talk to me, baby," Missouri said.

"You sensed it, huh?" Elle asked.

"I also know that you don't want to ask in front of your brothers."

Elle thought for a moment. She had so many unanswered questions—but some she wasn't sure she wanted the answers to—especially anything with her father. But there was one thing she needed to know—so that she could finally come clean to her brothers. She didn't like hiding things from them—because they were observant enough to realize she was hiding something, but just not enough to actually figure it out. Besides, what if the secret thing she was harboring was some sort of demon. How could she explain that she had been chosen out by a demon? That would crush her siblings—but she needed to know.

"Do you—do you know what brought me back? I mean, I should have died here—and yet here I am. Wisconsin changed all that." Elle asked. "Is it some sort of demon?"

"I can tell you that it's not a demon."

"Then what is it?"

"It's more ethereal than a demon and believe me, I've known my share of demons."

"Which means what?"

"I don't know, baby. I just know that in the past I tried to make contact with it—but every time I did, something got in the way. I know that's not the answer you were expecting—but I think that you should focus on living your life and not dwelling in the past. I've watched people ruin their lives because of the past. You were meant for so much more than that, baby."

"What was I meant for?"

"Life. Don't take it for granted, sweet child."

Missouri squeezed Elle's hand once more and Elle sighed. She was supposed to live. That was it? In theory it seemed easy enough—but given the life of being a hunter, it wasn't easy in actuality. Missouri then stood up and Elle followed after her as they made their way back to the Impala. After what seemed like the longest car ride ever, they made it back to the old Winchester house. There was no time for hesitation—this needed to be over with and now. Elle focused on the mission at hand but thoughts of the ceiling her mother had been pressed against flitted through her thoughts as they waited for Jenny to open the door once again. Jenny wasn't entirely sure about leaving her house alone with these strangers—but Missouri assured her that it would be better for her and the safety of her children if she would take the kids to the movies. Finally, Jenny agreed and left with her children.

It was time to get down to business. The Winchesters found tools in the storage closet that they could use for busting through walls. Sam picked up a hammer, Dean a small ax, and Elle chose a metal baseball bat. Dean shook his head at her for a moment before he told them to split up. He said Elle should go with Missouri—but Missouri told her to go with Sam. Dean shook his head before they split up. Elle and Sam went upstairs. They each chose a side to go smash in. Elle was surprised how long it actually took her to smash the wall. TV and her brothers always made it look so easy. That was probably why her brothers did the grunt work and she got stuck as the bait. She was surprised to see that for the amount of time it took her to finish one hole—Sam already had done two walls and they met in the hallway as he was about to go into his old nursery to finish the last wall. Sam smiled at her—she rolled her eyes and wiped away at the sweat beads that had perspired on her forehead—while it didn't even look like Sam broke a single sweat. Elle motioned with her bat for Sam to go in first. He went in and Elle followed behind to supervise or assist if he needed it—which she hoped that he wouldn't. Elle leaned against the wall as she watched Sam smash his hammer into the wall. In the corner of her eye, Elle saw a lamp unplug itself and begin to move—but she was already too late to do anything.

She had never felt so much force before as she found herself being forced upward and her feet left the floor. Elle closed her eyes and screamed as she felt her body being forced upward. When she stopped moving, she found herself pinned against the ceiling—just like she had been told what happened to her mother. Elle screamed for Sam's help, but Sam was too busy being strangled to death by a lamp cord. No—she didn't want to go this way. She already went this way once—it couldn't happen again. This couldn't be how she was supposed to die. Being brought to the land of the living by some sort of supernatural creature only to die again—in the same place. Elle's began to cry as her stomach began to feel funny—she couldn't see her stomach because of how she was pinned against the ceiling—but she assumed that she was bleeding. Next would come the fire. Elle closed her eyes and just waited for it all to come to an end. But before she could just die in peace—she heard Dean shouting Sam's name. Elle's teary eyes flung open as she watched Dean rush to Sam's aid as he was easily visible from the doorway. Dean didn't even look for her—instead, he tried to get the cord off Sam's neck—but he realized that he couldn't do it.

"Damnit! Elle! Elle! Where are you!" Dean shouted before he stood up and found his sister pinned against the ceiling. His eyes widened as he reached up his hand to try and pull her off the wall—but she wouldn't budge.

"Dean, just save yourself—" Elle said. "It's too late for me."

"No—there's no way in hell I'm losing you like this too."

Underneath her, Dean kicked a hole into the wall before he quickly shoved bags of herbs into the wall. A blinding white light flashed before leaving the room—the spirit was gone. Elle then felt herself quickly hurtling toward the floor and debris from Dean kicking in the wall. Thankfully though, Dean was there to catch her. He carefully set her down on her feet and without even thinking of what he was doing, Dean placed a quick kiss on the top of Elle's head before he rushed over to get the cord untangled from Sam's neck. Elle's hands went to her stomach—which was surprisingly not bloody. No blood. No fire. But she was pinned against the ceiling—it didn't really make sense. But she then rushed over to Sam when he was finally sitting upright and she practically knocked him over with a hug.

"Give him some room to breathe—literally," Dean said shaking his head.

Elle could swear she saw a smile underneath Dean's expressionless façade. She then stood back up and both Dean and Elle reached out their hands to help Sam up. Sam took both their hands and the fighting siblings helped him back onto his feet. They then walked downstairs where they found Missouri waiting at the kitchen table in an extremely messy kitchen for them.

"I thought you said it wasn't the same thing!" Dean growled as he walked into the kitchen. "It had Elle friggin pinned to the ceiling."

"It must've read her fear," Missouri responded. "But it wasn't the same thing as last time, that I am certain of."

"But it's over then, you're sure?" Sam asked.

"Yes. Why? Why do you ask?"

"Nevermind. It's nothin' I guess."

Just then, Jenny showed back up with the kids. She walked into the kitchen, but stop Ritchie and Sari from coming in. It was obvious the woman was trying to stay calm about the mess all over the place, but her face gave her away.

"What happened?" Jenny asked.

"Hi—sorry," Sam said. "We'll—um—we'll pay for all of this."

"We will?" Dean questioned.

"Don't you worry, honey. First, Dean's gonna clean up this mess," Missouri said as she gently took Jenny's arm, but Dean didn't move. "Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop."

Dean walked away muttering under his breath—but Missouri yelled at him to not cuss. To which Dean responded with more cussing. Sam moved to go upstairs. Elle just kinda stood there, playing with her hair, when Missouri walked over to her.

"Baby, you do realize that part of living is picking up your messes," Missouri said.

"I can take a hint," Elle said with a slight smile. "I was just hoping you'd let me slide."

Elle went upstairs and helped Sam pick up the rooms they had destroyed. It was funny how Dean's single mess in the kitchen was more than the two of them had for all four holes. When they were finished cleaning, and after Dean reluctantly gave Jenny the money that was left in his wallet, the Winchesters and Missouri left. Missouri said she wanted to enjoy the night air with a walk home—no one argued with her. The Winchesters went to the Impala, but they didn't leave. Instead, they stayed parked on the street in front of the house—keeping an eye on the place. It was Sam's idea—and seeing since the whole Lawrence thing was Sam's idea—he was calling the shots. Elle rested her chin on her arms, which rested on the front seat, between her brothers. Sam kept an intent gaze on the house as Dean looked to his little sister for a moment. They made eye contact—so now was as good as a time as any.

"Dean, thank you for saving me in there," Elle said.

"You're welcome, but I'm still pissed at you—I just didn't want that spirit offing you before I got the chance to," Dean muttered.

"Whatever your intentions—thank you."

"Yeah, yeah—don't get all chick-flicky on me."

"Love you too."

"All right—so tell me again, what are we still doing here, Sammy?"

"I don't know. I just…I still have a bad feeling," Sam responded.

"That psychic thing you said you'd tell me about later?" Elle asked.

"Kinda."

"But why? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over," Dean said.

"Well—probably, but I just want to make sure, that's all."

"But the problem is—I could be sleeping in a bed right now."

"Define sleeping," Elle said.

"Yes."

"Yes as in sleep sleep or yes as in sleep sleep."

Dean smirked as he ignored his sister and slid down the seat further and closed his eyes. Elle rolled her eyes at Dean as Sam looked up to the house and saw Jenny screaming. Sam's eyes widened as he smacked at Dean and pointed toward the house.

"Guys, look! Guys!"

Sam and Dean were the first to rush out of the car. Elle followed behind—but rather nervously. Was this thing going to come after her again? But Dean turned around and yanked her by the arm toward the house.

"We need you, Elle! They need you. You go get the girl. Sammy, get the boy and I'll get Jenny."

Elle nodded her head. He was right. Now wasn't the time to play selfish. They all ran into the house taking the stairs more than one at a time. Elle veered into the room she had almost died in earlier where she found Sari quaking in her bed. Elle called for the girl to come to her, but the girl shook her head and pointed toward her closet. Elle moved to get a better view of the closet when the bedroom door slammed behind her. She did a double take backward before she saw a figure made out of fire standing just outside the closet. Elle ran to the door to try and open it—but she couldn't. The thing was controlling the door. So, she ran to protect Sari. Elle told Sari to get on her back—like a piggy back and then looked for her other options. The door wasn't going to open easily—but maybe she could break the glass. Elle pulled out the revolver with rock salt rounds she had stashed in her inside jacket pocket.

"Stay down and try your best to cover your ears," Elle told Sari.

Sari obeyed and shielded her face with Elle's back as Elle took a shot at the window. It barely cracked. With determination Elle fired at the window once more before she fired at the fire creature—who disappeared for a second but quickly reappeared. Elle then decided to use the rest of her rounds to try and break the glass because it was their only hope out. She quickly ran out of rounds—leaving them trapped. Suddenly, the door was kicked in. Elle turned to see Sam standing in the doorway holding Ritchie. With Sari on her back, Elle ran toward Sam and Ritchie. Elle and Sari followed quickly behind Sam and Ritchie. Elle had to stop to breathe as Sari slipped off her back. At that moment, Sam chose to hand Ritchie to his sister. He told her to take her brother and run outside as fast as she could. Sari immediately obeyed. Just as Sari took hold of Ritchie's hand both Sam and Elle were dragged backward. With a blood-curdling scream, Sari ran outside tightly clutching her little brother. The spirit must have wanted to deal with Sam first because Elle found herself thrown into the kitchen pantry unable to open the door. She slammed herself at the door. If only she hadn't used all her rounds on the window maybe she could shoot the door down. Elle pounded against the door that it should take her instead of Sam. She gave a final pound which caused the door to fly open but her hit was so hard that it closed halfway again. Elle froze for a moment that she actually managed to open it. She slowly peered around the door as she saw Sam and Dean standing there looking at…

"Elle, sweetie, you can come out."

"Mommy?" Elle choked out.

"It's me, baby girl. I won't hurt you."

"I-I'm sorry for shooting you."

"You didn't know."

"You shot Mom?" Dean questioned.

"I said I was sorry," Elle groaned.

"My babies," Mary Winchester chuckled. "Now, I don't have long."

Mary walked over to Dean who for a moment seemed to innocent and young.

"Dean, I'm so proud of you for looking after your brother and sister—and for taking care of your father. You shouldn't have to do that—but know that it means something. Just don't stay mad at your sister too long. Her intentions were good. But I still love you, sweetheart."

She then walked over to Sam who had tears in his eyes as he was still pinned to the wall.

"Sam, I'm so sorry you had to grow up the way you did, I wanted so much better for you; but I'm proud of the young man you've become. I love you, so much, my son."

Lastly, she walked over Elle. Mary smiled at her daughter and Elle couldn't help the tears that began to sting at her eyes.

"My beautiful baby, girl—I'm so sorry that we've never met before in this capacity, but know that I am always watching over you and I'm not the only one keeping an eye on you. You are so loved, darling. Even when you think you're not—remember a mother's love never dies. You'll always have it right here-" Mary said motioning toward Elle's heart.

"But Dad—" Elle started.

"Don't argue with your mother—" Mary said gently with a smile. "It's not about the number of people who love you—but the fact that you are loved and loved deeply. I promise you that someday you'll be sure of that love—but for right now you need to trust. Have a little faith, Elle."

"Stay with me, please. There's so many things that I don't know about you."

"I can't, sweetheart; you know that; but I'm always right there. Same goes for you boys too. I wish I had longer—but I'm sorry."

"For what?" Sam asked.

Mary Winchester walked away from her children giving them one last sad look over her shoulder before she looked up at the ceiling. She shouted at the other spirit to get out of her house—and to let Sam go. Then once again, she burst into flames—entirely engulfed by them—almost as before. The fire reached the ceiling and then it disappeared. Sam was released from whatever hold he was under. Elle quickly walked over to him and hugged him before they both walked over to Dean who just stared up. It was over and their mother was gone for good.

"Is it weird that I already miss her?" Elle asked.

"We all do," Dean said.

"Are you being nice to me?"

"For now—because that's what Mom wanted. Now let's get the hell out of here so I can actually sleep in a bed. We can swing by in the morning to make sure everything is back to normal."

After a restful night's sleep—the Winchesters headed back to the old house one last time. Jenny had old pictures of Sam, Dean, Mary, and John to give them. Elle managed to snatch a couple blackmail pictures of Dean along with several of her mother to keep in her own collection before Dean but the shoebox of pictures in the trunk. Elle leaned against the Impala as she watched Missouri talking to Sam. Dean joined her, leaning against the car.

"I really am sorry I can't tell you about what happened in Wisconsin," Elle sighed.

"Then you should have said that to begin with instead of lying about it," Dean said. "I might not have liked it—but I would have understood. I just don't get how after everything we've been though you could lie to my face like that. You've never lied to me before."

"That you know of—"

"That's not helping your case. In this business and in this family, we need to trust each other and right now I'm struggling with trusting you."

"What can I do to make it better? I can't keep living with this strain on our relationship."

"I don't know, Elle-Belle. If you were anyone else, I'd be completely done; but you're my sister. You can't quit family."

Elle sighed before she leaned her head back against the Impala. Repairing her relationship with Dean was probably going to take time. Missouri then walked over to the car with Sam walking beside her. The older woman hugged Dean, Sam, and Elle. She held onto Elle a little longer than normal.

"You were meant for this life—don't forget that," Missouri said before she released Elle and turned to all the Winchester siblings. "Don't you three be strangers, you hear?"

"We won't," Dean responded.

"Besides, where else would Sam and I get to see Dean put in his place," Elle smirked.

"Honey—what have I told you 'bout cussin'?" Missouri said to Dean to which Dean responded by shaking his head—making Missouri laugh. "See you around."

The Winchesters piled into the Impala and waved goodbye to Jenny, Sari, Ritchie, and Missouri. They were on their way to sell the Grand Prix Bobby lent Elle before they got out of town and hit the open road. The Winchester siblings were well on the road and completely unaware of another relation in town visiting Missouri.

"That boy…he has such powerful abilities. But why he couldn't sense his own father, I have no idea," Missouri said.

John Winchester was seated on the very couch that Sam and Dean had been sitting on not long before. His head was in his hands and he sighed deeply. He twisted at his wedding ring anxiously before he looked up to Missouri.

"Mary's spirit—do you really think she saved the boys?"

"You say the boys—but your mind thought otherwise and I do. But John Winchester, I could just slap your silly for what you're doing. Why won't you go talk to your children?"

"I want to—I do. You have no idea how much I wanna see 'em—but not until I know the truth."

"And I am going to slap you for what you're doing to your daughter," Missouri said as she moved over to John Winchester and slapped him across the face. "You're right you deserve that one. She wants nothing more than for you to love her. There's nothing wrong with her—John Winchester. Nothing aside from a broken heart you put there. You need to love your little girl—before she loses all hope."

"I can't. Not yet."


	11. Asylum

The Winchester siblings sat in their motel room. Dean watched whatever he could find on the motels cable. Sam was talking to someone on his cellphone. She could have sworn she had heard him say Pastor Jim, but she really hadn't been paying attention. Elle sat on the queen-sized bed she had claimed the night before with her sketchbook on her lap. She absently rubbed at her left wrist. The soft cast was no longer on her wrist—but she probably should have gotten the hard cast on it like she was medically advised to do. She wiggled her fingers but there was still some pain shooting through her wrist as she did so. If only she had something stronger than ibuprofen to deal through the pain. Although—she supposed swinging a baseball bat at a home's walls didn't help her wrist heal any better. Thankfully, she could still draw because her dominant hand wasn't the one she had hurt. Elle sketched a picture of the first actual memory of her mother—smiling at her and telling her that she could come out of the pantry. Maybe it was because she wanted the picture to be perfect, but she couldn't get this one just right. She wanted to do her mother justice in her artwork, but so far, Elle didn't feel that she was accomplishing that. Sam walked by her bed and looked down at the picture. He complimented her, but Elle only rolled her eyes because in her eyes it wasn't even halfway decent. Although, people were always more critical of their own work then others were. Dean used the remote to turn the TV off before he swung his legs off the rollaway bed and faced his little sister.

"Elle, I know you're not gonna want to have this conversation, but we got to," Dean said.

"I already know how to use tampons, thanks though," Elle retorted sarcastically.

"Not that kind of conversation—a Dad conversation."

"Why does everything always have to come back to him?"

"We are the fruits of his loins."

"Ew—never use that phrase again."

"I agree with Elle on that one," Sam added.

"So where did you ditch Dad?" Dean asked.

"First of all—he was going to ditch me to begin with so I just beat him to the punch and I left him in northern Wisconsin," Elle said.

"Can you be any less specific?"

"A tiny town called Rhinelander, Home of the friggin' Hodag or something like that—besides, it's not like he's there or anything," Elle said rolling her eyes.

"I think he headed to California after that," Sam said. "I've been trying to keep some tabs on him."

"Why do we even have to find him? I mean—we proved that we're more than capable without him in Lawrence."

"I'm sorry that you're in some pissing match with him—but this is Dad we're talking about, Elle. Does there really need to be a better reason?" Dean argued.

"To find a man who hates me? Yes."

"He doesn't hate you."

"What would you know about it? I asked him if he loved me—and he didn't answer the question."

"Are you really that stupid? Asking him probably just pissed him off because he didn't want to answer a stupid question—Dad's just Dad, Elle; but he loves us in his own different ways. Besides, I made a promise to you that I intend on keeping."

"Love you? Sure. Sam? More than likely. Me—"

"Hey—guys, shut up, I'm calling Caleb," Sam interrupted.

Dean and Elle looked to each other, but kept their mouths shut as Sammy talked with Caleb on the phone. Caleb was the guy who supplied John Winchester with his 'munitions, but from the sound of the phone conversation it didn't appear that the man had any clue where their father was. Elle really wasn't all that worried about him since she had seen him about a month ago in Wisconsin, but that didn't leave Sam and Dean with any comfort. She knew that John Winchester was more than capable of surviving on his own; but even she had to admit that somewhere deep in the pit of her stomach, he would always be her father. While she continually tried to block any emotions toward the man she hadn't fully mastered the skill yet, leaving her with the slightest sense of worry about him. But that was something she would never admit to Sam or Dean. Dean got up and walked over to take John's journal from the table between Sam and Elle's beds. He then plopped onto Sam's bed and began flipping through it.

"So now what?" Elle asked.

"Since when do you care?" Dean questioned.

"I don't like your tone. I'm choosing not to answer that question. Sam, did Caleb have anything?"

"Nope and neither did Pastor Jim or Jefferson. Does the journal say anything?" Sam questioned.

"No, same as last time I looked. Nothing I can make out…I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like friggin' Yoda," Dean said with the journal on his lap.

"Buttmunch, Dean is," Elle retorted.

"Was that supposed to be funny?"

"I'm trying to talk like Yoda."

"Well don't because you suck at it."

"Guys, as much as I hate to say it, maybe we should call the Feds," Sam interrupted.

"And do what? File a missing person's?" Elle asked.

"Yeah, anything to help us find Dad."

"We've talked about this. Dad'd be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail," Dean argued.

"Pissed, Dad would be," Elle added before Dean glared at her and she muttered an apology. "Sorry."

"I don't care anymore. This is getting a little ridiculous, Dean…" Sam started when Dean's cellphone began to ring from across the room. Dean got up to get it. "I mean, like Elle said, after everything that happened back in Kansas. Dad should have been there, Dean. You said so yourself. Not to mention that you tried to call him and…nothing."

"I know that," Dean grunted as he rummaged through his duffel bag. "But I think there's more to the whole Wisconsin vacation that Elle's not telling us. Damnit! Where the hell is my cellphone?"

"Fine, you really want to know what happened in Wisconsin?" Elle hissed as she walked over to Dean and started going through his clothes that fell to the floor. "Long story short: Dad was an ass so I left him in the woods. End of story."

"You know, for all we know, he could be dead," Sam sighed

"Don't say that!" Dean hissed. "He's not dead! He's—he's…"

"He's what? He's hiding? He's busy?"

"Obviously he's playing hide-and-seek. Which he is pretty damn good at," Elle continued before she pulled a cellphone out of a pocket from a pair of Dean's jeans. "Found it."

"Give it here," Dean groaned as he snatched his phone from Elle's hands.

Dean flipped open his cellphone and much to all the Winchester siblings surprise, there was a message from an Unavailable caller of "42, -89" Elle squinted to focus on the numbers before she took Dean's phone away from him but he quickly retrieved it from his little sister's paws. She had no idea what the numbers were, but Dean must have known right away because he walked over to Sam's laptop muttering something about coordinates. Elle groaned. If they really were coordinates, they could only be from one person: their father. Of all the times to get a text from him—John Winchester sure knew how to make an appearance. Elle plopped back onto her bed—she knew how this ended. They were going to have another job. She made herself comfortable against her pillows as she listened to Sam argue about how Dad could barely work a toaster. That reference made Elle smirk. When she was about twelve, her father had almost set the motel on fire from a toaster he had snitched from the office. Of course, John had blamed it on his youngest daughter rather than taking responsibility for his own actions; but the fact knowing that John Winchester was fallible brought her some comfort.

"So, where are we going?" Elle asked as she rested against her pillow with her hands behind her head, staring up at the ceiling.

"That's the interesting part," Dean started. "Rockford, Illinois."

"And how's that interesting?" Sam asked.

"Because that one guy we met that one time with the man boobs lives there," Elle said.

"And that matters because?"

"They were distracting."

"So we're going to Rockford for a guy's man boobs?"

"Close," Dean said shaking his head. "Take a look at this."

"That would involve getting up. How about you just tell us instead?" Elle groaned.

"Fine. So, there was this cop, Walter Kelly, he came home from his shift, shot his wife, then put the gun to his mouth, and blew his brains out."

"Definitely related to the man boobs."

"Anyway, earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum."

"Okay, I'm not following," Sam sighed as he sat down on his bed. "What does this have to do with us and, Elle, if you say man boobs again I'm going to come over there and sit on you."

"Touchy, touchy," Elle muttered. "Dean piss in your Cheerios this morning?"

"It was actually his Wheaties," Dean quipped before answering Sam's question. "This has to be our kind of thing because Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let's see…" He paused for a moment as he flipped through the journal. "Here it is. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths—'til last week at least. I think this is where he wants us to go."

"This is a job?" Sam snorted. "Dad wants us to work a job."

"Well, maybe he wants us to meet up with him. Maybe he's already there?"

"Maybe he's not? I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing."

"Who cares? If he wants us there, it's good enough for me!"

"It's always been good enough for you," Elle groaned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean hissed.

"Dad can do no wrong in your eyes, Dean. He's not the World's Greatest Dad, as that stupid, old coffee mug claims."

"But he's Dad which means he's family and—"

"You don't quit family; yeah, I know."

"Elle has a point, Dean," Sam sighed. "I mean, doesn't it strike you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?"

"You both better listen up because I'm only gonna say this once," Dean growled. "Dad's tellin' us to go somewhere, we're goin'."

"Already knew that," Elle muttered sarcastically.

Within an hour, the Winchesters were packed and on the road again, headed toward Rockford, Illinois. From the backseat, Elle popped another ibuprofen for the pain in her wrist. She wasn't sure how many she had taken so far, but she didn't really care how many pills it was—as long as the pain would subside. Elle then cuddled up with her stolen pillow and old stuffed Tigger before she fell asleep. When they rolled into Rockford, Dean stopped the Impala outside the police station.

"You two go on without me," Sam announced. "I have a phone call I wanna make."

"I'll wait for you," Dean said. "Besides, gotta hit the head anyway."

"Dean, we talked about this, just go with Elle and get this over with."

"Fine, let's go."

Dean groaned from the front seat as Elle was finishing slipping her blue Converse on her feet. Sam told them to have fun—but Elle wasn't so sure that he really had a phone call to make. Elle caught up to Dean on the sidewalk leading up to the building. As they walked, Elle threw her unruly hair up into a messy bun. Dean took a glance back at Sam before he turned around and shook his head.

"So, what's that about?" Elle asked.

"Sam seems to think that if you and me act like we did before he came back into the picture that you and I will—"Dean said stopping short.

"Will what?"

"Son-of-a-bitch, Elle. What? Do you think I have a friggin' road map to Sam's brain?"

"I didn't—"  
"Let's just get this over with."

"That's what he said," Elle said with a smirk toward Dean who shook his head. "What? That's literally what Sam said."

"But the difference is you know the double connot—uh—meaning."

"Connotation too big of a word for you, Dean-o?"

"You can take your conno—friggin—tation and shove it where the sun don't shine."

Elle chuckled at her brother as he opened the door to the police station without saying anything. Normally, Dean would at least hold the door for her to grab it, but he didn't. She knew that things with Dean were going to continue to be complicated, but she didn't like dealing with him when he acted like a little bitch. Then again, making fun of him when he was in one of his moods definitely wasn't helping any—not to mention that she wasn't completely on his side when it came to Dad. Leave it to John Winchester to get in between his children. Dean stopped short of the front desk and asked about seeing on of the officers. The person at the desk said that she was new and went to go get someone else, leaving Elle and Dean standing there. Dean pulled out one of his fake ID badges as Elle scrambled to go through her pockets.

"Shit, I forgot my ID in the car," Elle muttered patting her pants pockets frantically.

"Damnit, Elle," Dean hissed as the lady walked up to greet them. "You've got to be shitting me."

"Does it look like I'm shitting you?"

"How can I help you two?" a woman, assumed to have some sort of desk job, asked.

"Well, go on, tell the lady," Dean scoffed as he pushed his sister toward the desk.

"We're looking for Daniel Gunderson," Elle said sweetly. "Could you direct us to him?"

"What do you want with him?" the woman asked.

"Don't be shy now," Elle said slapping Dean's arm which caused him to slightly wince and narrow his eyes at his sister.

"We're uh—his—uh-cousins," Dean said.

"You're Gunderson's cousins?" the woman scoffed.

"Very distant," Elle added. "You know—mother's father's cousin's fourth cousin three times removed type of thing. We were just doing an ancestry project and wanted to meet him."

"Well, honey, he hasn't been in for a while—nor is he going to be any time soon."

"You wouldn't happen to know where we could find him?" Dean asked.

"I can't give out personal information like that."

"Of course not to the general public," Elle added. "But to distant relatives concerned about his welfare."

"I shouldn't be sayin' this, but I suppose I can tell you the bar he's at most nights."

"That'll work."

The woman gave them the name of the bar Gunderson had been frequenting before Elle thanked the woman for her time. Elle then headed for the door with Dean, but she stopped for a moment to look at the plaques and pictures on the wall. As she scanned them, she looked for the name Gunderson and sure enough—she found him in a picture for the department softball team. Elle shook her head when she finally found their cousin.

"No wonder, she didn't believe us," Elle scoffed pointing to a picture. The man they were asking for, Gunderson, his skin tone was completely different than the Winchesters fairer tone.

"We have the same chin," Dean joked as he pressed his face close to the frame for Elle to examine. "One of our finer similarities, I might add."

"Shut up."

"I don't know how the lady didn't see the resemblance. Besides, you have his eyebrows."

"Of all the things to insult me about, you go for the eyebrows? Ass."

Elle rolled her eyes and walked away from Dean. She walked out the door of the police station and toward the Impala where Sam sat in the front seat leaning his head back and taking a nap. Some important phone call, huh? Elle slapped the front window on the passenger's side causing Sam to jerk upward. She glared at him for a moment and shook her head before she crawled in the back of the Impala. Normally, she'd call Sam out on the move he just pulled—but knowing that Sam was the only brother she was currently in good-standing with, Elle decided to refrain. Sam tossed Elle one of her fake IDs. Apparently, he found it outside the car on the asphalt. Elle snatched the ID back from him and shoved it in her pocket as Dean got in the car. Without even explaining anything to Sam, Dean drove to the bar the woman had told them that Gunderson frequented. He parked the car outside the bar before turning toward Sam while Elle was snuggling with her pillow and stuffed Tigger.

"Dean, what're we doing here?" Sam asked.

"It's five o'clock somewhere, right?" Dean joked.

"A little early still."

"It's where Gunderson usually spends his evenings," Elle said rolling her eyes toward Dean. "Speaking of whom—he's not due to show up for a couple of hours yet."

"There's no harm in checking the place out and hitting back a beer or two," Dean argued

"Count me out. I want a nap."

"Fine, Miss Priss—Sammy, you coming?"

"I—uh—"Sam started.

"I don't need your lame-ass excuses too. I'm going in. If either of you need me—well, just don't need me."

Dean took the keys from the ignition before he got out of the Impala and walked to the bar. Sam turned around and poked Elle's leg. She groaned but made no motion to open her eyes—so Sam took her Tigger from her which caused her bolt straight up. She blinked at him several times, but he didn't say anything—just continued to look at her.

"What?" Elle hissed.

"What'd you do to piss him off?" Sam questioned.

"Why does it have to be my fault? Ever think this might be your fault since you ditched us," Elle groaned. "Besides, he's been all moody since Dad's text."

"But you're not helping things."

"He's older. He should be the one acting more mature in this situation—not me."

"You do realize that you're both adults, right?"

"Hey—I'm barely legal…"

"You're twenty-one."

"To drink."

"We just need to get through this. So I'd appreciate a little more help on your end."

"Whatever."

Elle plopped back down onto her pillow, holding her injured wrist. The pain was beginning to come back again which made her wince. Of all the things to cause her this much pain—a stupid wrist. Elle took out her bottle of ibuprofen. She only popped the last pills into her mouth and looked inside the empty bottle. She didn't want to tell Sam or Dean how much pain she was in—she didn't want them thinking she wasn't capable of doing her job. Elle soon drifted back to sleep and was only awoken when Dean got back into the car—causing both Sam and Elle to jump awake from their naps.

"Two Sleeping Beauties for the price of one," Dean said shaking his head.

"You get what you need?" Sam asked as he stretched.

"You could say that."

"What's that supposed to mean man?"

"I came up with a plan for Gunderson—you know the case we're actually supposed to be working on instead of getting friggin' beauty sleep."

"What is it?" Elle asked.

"Well, I'm going to pretend to be an annoying—"

"Pretend? That shouldn't be too hard."

"Elle," Sam hissed giving her a knowing look.

"So anyway, I'm gonna pretend to be an annoying reporter then Sammy's gonna swoop in and save Gunderson. Then Gunderson should spill his guts—you know being a cop and all that honorable garbage crap," Dean said.

"And what am I going to do?" Elle asked.

"I got you a job," Dean announced.

"I already have one," Elle said. "Putting up with you."

"You and Sammy got me thinking about this real job thing a little ways back. So, Elle-Belle, you're gonna work here at the bar."

"No! No freaking way! Why don't you work at the bar? Why can't Sam work at the bar?"

"We weren't their type."

"Which was?"

"Busty. Apparently, mine aren't big enough. Which is complete crap because they're real."

"That still doesn't explain why I need a job at the bar."

"Because in case mine and Sam's plan fails, you'll be there undercover. Dudes always talk to the bartenders. It's like a way of life. Besides, you never know—he might be a good tipper. Not to mention it's about time you started earning some of the keep."

"But you make enough scamming and hustling."

"Elle, it's not a bad plan," Sam offered.

"Fine—I'll go along with it, like I always do, but don't expect me to like it," Elle said as she folded her arms across her chest defensively.

"Good, the manager is waiting for you inside—you start now," Dean said. "Nap time for me until then. See you later, Elle-Belle."

"You've got to be kidding me?"

"Nope and you might want to hurry. You don't want him to fire you before you've even started."

Dean rested his head back on his hands and looked over to Sam. Elle also looked to Sam—who only shrugged his shoulders. Damnit. She quickly looked at her appearance—it certainly wasn't worthy of a grown-up job. She was friggin' dressed in a white tank top, baggy grey sweatshirt, ripped up jeans, and socks with donuts on them. She decided on changing out her sweatshirt for one of her plaid shirts—despite the fact that he was supposed to be napping, Dean told her to drop a button, which she reluctantly did before she walked into the bar. As Elle entered the bar, she had her arms folded across her chest. The things she did for her brother—there was a guy at the bar who immediately took notice of her.

"You Eleanor?" the guy at the bar called.

"Uh—I go by Elle," Elle said not wanting to completely ruin whatever cover Dean had for her.

"Well, Elle, you'll do for now because I'm short staffed and it's not often people come in with all the training and licensing that they need."

Elle was pretty sure that bartending couldn't possibly be harder than ganking ghosts or exorcising demons, but Dean lied about her having all the licensing and training that she needed. The next few hours were a crash-course into tending the bar. There were so many drinks that Elle had never heard of before—mostly because real men only drink beer—or so was Dean's philosophy. Not to mention that she needed to know the difference between different liquors. She had originally thought she had a pretty decent understanding of alcohol but now that she thought about—she knew whatever drink Dean ordered for her. She was definitely keeping her cheat sheet after she was done with the job. Elle's brain was spinning by the time happy hour started. Brian, the bar manager had her wiping glasses behind the bar at the start of happy hour.

"Drop a button,"

"Another one?"

"If you wanna make big tips," the bar manager said before he walked away from the bar.

"I already have those," Elle said to herself as she grabbed at her boobs.

"He said tips—not tits," Dean whispered in her ear from behind.

"Damn you, Dean."

"Is that any way to treat your first customer?"

"What do you want?"

"Surprise me—with my favorite draft."

"Have a seat and I'll surprise you."

Elle shooed Dean away toward a table before she went back behind the bar to get Dean a drink. Although, she wasn't going to get him a draft—no, she was gonna mix different things together and embarrass him by putting a girlie umbrella in the drink. Elle poured a little of this, a splash of that, something old, something new—and most importantly something blue. She shook it up in the tumbler before she put it in a martini glass. She tossed a pink umbrella in it and called it good before she walked it over to Dean who sat at a table playing with the peanuts on the table. Elle set the martini glass on the table in front of him.

"This isn't what I ordered."

"No, it's better."

"What is this called?"

"It's a Screw You Dean," Elle retorted. "Made it myself."

"'Bout time I got a drink named after me," Dean said before he took a drink. After a sip, he spit the drink back into the glass. "Oh god, that's friggin' disgusting."

"Just like you. Perfect match."

"I'm not paying for this crap! I still want my beer!"

"You're just gonna have to wait your turn."

As Elle, made her way back to the bar, Daniel Gunderson sat down on stool. Elle asked him what he wanted. Thankfully, the man's order wasn't too difficult. All she had to do was open the bottle to his beer and set it front of him and she was golden. She gave the man a big smile before she brought Dean the beer he had asked for earlier. Elle smirked as she watched him drink his first sip hesitantly—he knew Elle well enough to think that she would pull something twice, but the joke was on him because she didn't actually mess with that drink. She then nodded her head toward the bar and Dean seemed to nod his knowingly. After that, she headed back to the bar and tried her best not to get fired. She tried her best to remember to keep a flirty attitude—but she was dreadfully horrible at flirting. Or at least she assumed she was since she really had no idea what it meant to be flirty, but for some reason guys usually bought her act—however, this time, Elle decided to go another route. She was going to play the pity card on these guys—because if there was one thing she was sure of—compared to a normal innocent, her life sucked. A guy sat down at the bar and waved at Elle—so she walked over to him. He looked to be in his mid-thirties and oddly attractive in an older guy sort of way—not that he was necessarily old.

"Hi," was all Elle greeted. She mentally kicked herself for giving such a dumb greeting.

"I don't think I've seen you around here before," a man said.

"No, sir—I'm new in town," Elle said with a smile—remembering the ruse she was playing.

"Well, welcome to town—Elle," the man said leaning forward a bit to read Elle's paper nametag with her name written in Sharpie. "What brings you here?"

"I—uh—I have two brothers I need to support. Mom died awhile back and Dad walked out on us. Just the three of us against the world."

The man seemed to eat up her every word. Although, she did make is sound like she was trying to support Sam and Dean, but what the man didn't know didn't hurt him. In the corner of her eye, Elle watched Dean approach Gunderson. The interaction didn't go well—as intended—and then Sam came in and saved the guy: just as they had planned. Although, Elle couldn't help but laugh at how hard Sam pushed Dean away. The little twerp deserved it. Sam then asked Elle for two beers—one for him and one for Gunderson. Apparently, Gunderson was quickly falling for Sam's charm because when Elle came over with the beers they were already talking about the asylum. Elle walked back over to the man she had told her sob story to and leaned over the bar.

"You wouldn't mind helping a girl out, would ya?" Elle asked, attempting to thickly lay on the charm while assuming she was failing miserably. "I couldn't help but overhear the conversation over there." Elle pointed to Sam and Gunderson. "What's this asylum that they're talking about?"

"The old Roosevelt Asylum is my guess," the man said before taking a swig of his beer. "Been closed for years. Mainly abandoned aside from the teenagers that try to slip through. But there's a chain blocking them from getting in."

"Sounds like you know quite a bit about the place."

"Only what a drunk teenager would know."

"So you've been there?"

"Yeah, years ago, but like I said—we were met with iron chains locking the south wing so we couldn't get in."

"Iron chains," Elle mused quietly. "Wonder if that means something."

"It means that the police don't like kids trespassing."

"Right—so you know anything else about the old place?"

"Why are you so damn curious about it?"

"I—I just like to be aware of my surroundings. Kinda superstitious—y' know?"

"Yeah, well, I couldn't tell you much anyway. What I know about the place came from my daddy who was a lousy drunk and couldn't tell you his own name on a good day."

"Sorry for bringing it up," Elle apologized with a slight frown before she continued the conversation to somewhat save face. "So, is there anything good in town to do?"

The man grinned from behind his beer bottle. Elle didn't really care, but she felt somewhat guilty for bringing up the guy's lousy past. So, she sat and listened to him—at least he tipped well. Her biggest tip of the night. When Elle finally got off work, both Sam and Dean were in the car waiting for her. At least Dean didn't leave her there. She practically collapsed on the backseat before she listened to Sam go into detail about everything Gunderson had told him. Dean on the other hand put out his hand to see how much money Elle had made. The pity card seemed to work on most of her customers—because she actually made a decent amount of money. Or so she thought. But it seemed like everything about this case was leading them to actually going to the Roosevelt Asylum. Dean wanted to go right then and there, but there was no way Elle was in the mood for that. She really hoped that Sam would back her up on this one.

"We go tomorrow morning because right now my feet are killing me," Elle whined.

"You poor baby," Dean mocked.

"Hey, while you got to sit down knocking back a few, I was on my feet all night having to interact with people. Right now, I would be okay if people just disappeared for a couple hours so I could have a few moments to myself. But no, I'm going to be stuck with you two in an old motel room with no privacy or time to recharge. God, sometimes being an introvert sucks!"

"Shoulda gotten Duracell. That damn bunny can go all night long."

Sam cracked up at this to which Elle responded by rolling her eyes.

"Please? Morning?" Elle asked.

"She does make a good point. Besides, then we won't have any annoying teenagers trying to break-in," Sam added.

"Fine, but that means you're getting the rollaway bed," Dean said looking straight at Elle.

"But, Dean—"Elle groaned.

"Sounds like she's really wanting to go tonight, Sammy."

"Fine. I'll hate you forever, but fine."

Dean turned back and smirked at his little sister before he put the Impala into drive, leaving the bar in the rearview mirror. When they arrived at the motel, Elle did a little running jump before plopping on the rollaway bed. She was none-too-happy about being forced to the extra bed, but then again, she was too damn tired and sore to put up much of a fight. Her fight consisted of calling Dean a loser before she covered herself with the blankets. Dean turned on the television before she quickly fell asleep to the dull drone of voices from some sort of procedural cop show.

Early the next morning, the Winchesters headed to the Roosevelt Asylum. Thankfully, they stopped for some breakfast before heading over there. Elle bought a cup of hot chocolate and a sour cream doughnut, which she finished in the backseat of the Impala as Dean drove them to the abandoned place. Dean parked the car outside the perimeter of the place. They would have to walk the rest of the way. The place was guarded by a tall chain-linked fence which Sam and Dean easily climbed up the thing and made it over to the other side. This was the part of the job that Elle hadn't fully mastered yet.

"Guys, a little help?" Elle groaned still on the other side of the fence.

"Just climb it," Dean scoffed. "Do you need me to explain the process to you?"

Elle climbed a little ways before her wrist started giving her trouble, causing her foot to slip, and she fell flat on her ass. For a moment, she just sat there in slight pain while her brothers laughed. She slowly stood up rubbing her rear-end, which Dean couldn't help but laugh even harder about—Elle was pretty sure there was a joke about breaking her ass in there.

"It's not funny. Unlike you two—I didn't inherit the giant monkey gene."

"Would you just hurry up already?"

"How about one of you two comes back over and gives me a boost?"

Elle looked over at her brothers. She knew that she was probably more than capable of getting over the fence—if she actually tried and her feet weren't so sore; but if there was one thing she knew how to do—it was manipulate her brothers. She looked to them with her sad puppy eyes and to Elle's surprise, Sam actually agreed with her. Dean told him to go do it, but Sam held out his hand for a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. Dean lost as usual, meaning that he had to climb back over the fence and boost Elle on his shoulders, which he was not too happy about. Elle barely could reach the top of the fence, even with Dean's help, but she slowly started to pull herself up.

"You need to start working on your upper body strength, because this is pathetic," Dean grunted from beneath her.

"I thought pathetic was my middle name?" Elle retorted.

"Campbell Pathetic Winchester, just move your friggin' ass."

"I'm going. I'm going."

Elle finally reached the top of the fence before she carefully swung her legs around to the other side. She attempted to climb back down when Dean started climbing up which made her lose her grip on the fence. Thankfully, Sam was there to catch her. Sometimes, Elle didn't know what she'd do without her brothers; but for some reason, it always ended up being the stupid and pathetic—things that a normal person should be able to do on their own. Dean simply jumped from the top of the fence to the ground as Sam set his little sister back onto her feet. She was careful to ignore the look from Dean before they headed into the Asylum. Dean opened the door before he motioned with his head for Sam and Elle to follow behind him. From first glance, it was quite obvious that despite the police's best efforts, it seemed to be a place that often got tagged with graffiti or people simply leaving their mark on the place.

"So bar guy said…" Elle started.

"Bar guy?" Dean interrupted.

"Sam's not the only one capable of getting information. Anyway, bar guy said that there were chains blocking the south wing."

"Yeah—the south wing is where the cops chased the kids," Sam said before he stopped and pointed his flashlight up at a sign. "And it's right here."

"South wing, huh?" Dean said. "Wait a second…" he took out their father's journal and began flipping through the pages. "South wing…south wing…1972. Three kids broke into the south wing, only one survived. Way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place."

"Fun," Elle said sarcastically.

"Not exactly my definition of the word," Sam started. "But whatever's going on, the south wing is the heart of it."

"Say it is—if the kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?" Dean asked.

"Bar guy answered that too," Elle said pointing the flashlight at the broken chains.

"Probably been chained up for years," Sam added.

"Yeah, to keep people out," Dean scoffed.

"Or to keep something in," Elle stated picking up the chains. "They're iron. They might not have even known they were doing it."

"Or maybe they did. Either way, ladies first."

Dean smirked as he slowly opened the door and motioned for Elle to go first. Elle rolled her eyes at Dean before she pushed Sam forward and followed him down the hallway.

"That works," Dean chuckled before he followed his younger siblings. He eventually caught up with them and walked in between them holding onto his meter to check for anything off kilter. He turned to Sam and smirked. "Lemme know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel."

"Dude, enough," Sam groaned.

"He does have a point," Elle added. "Aren't ghosts attracted to that whole ESPN thing?"

"You do realize that ESPN is a sports network, right?"

"Sheesh! Can't a girl make a joke without someone thinking she's a complete idiot?"

"You really want an answer to that?" Dean asked.

"Not from you."

"Your loss," Dean said with a shrug. "But what I think Elle-Belle means is that you gotta be careful with the ESP thing."

"How many times do I have to tell the two of you? It's not ESP! I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams. That's all."

"Whatever man; don't ask, don't tell."

"Are you even getting a reading on that thing?" Elle asked as she attempted to snatch the meter from Dean.

"Hey—hey—hey, get your grubby paws off. And for your information, no, I'm not getting anything. Of course, it doesn't mean no one's home."

"Sometimes, spirits can't appear during certain hours of the day," Sam added.

"If they even follow their own freaking rules," Elle groaned. "Things would be much easier if they did."

"You know that the freaks always come out at night," Dean added.

"Yeah," Sam grunted.

"Of course they do," Elle sighed.

Sam rustled Elle's hair before the Winchesters moved to a different room in the asylum. Elle led the way as Dean cracked another joke about Sam being psychic, which she decided to remain out of this time. She opened a door to a different room but she didn't go in right away. She knew the place had closed in the '60s meaning that cruel, inhumane, and almost barbaric things were done to people who couldn't prove to be completely mentally competent.

"This is my kind of room," Dean said from behind Elle before he pushed past her and into the room.

"You do realize what kind of torture was done in here, right?" Elle asked as she stayed in the threshold to the room, leaning against the doorframe.

"Yeah—electro-shock, lobotomies, and other pretty twisted things. I do have both beauty and brains, Elle-Belle."

"Then why do you sound so excited about it?"

"Because it's kinda like my man Jack in Cuckoo's Nest," Dean said with a grin and crazy eyes.

"You do realize that the movie's based on a book, right?"

"Who cares; my man Jack is in it."

"Moving on from Dean's man Jack," Elle started with a roll of her eyes. "Sam, what do you think going on? Ghosts possessing people?"

"Maybe. Or maybe it's more like Amityville, or the Smurl hunting," Sam suggested.

"Spirits driving them insane? Nice. Kinda like my man Jack in The Shining," Dean grinned.

"Will you shut up about Jack?" Elle groaned. "Otherwise I swear to god that I will murder you in your sleep."

"Touchy, touchy."

"Dean!"

"Leave her alone," Sam said shaking his head. "Besides, I think there's something else we need to talk about."

"Like what?" Dean asked.

"Like the fact that Dad's not here."

"Oh, I see how it is. I can't annoy Elle, but you can annoy me? Well, here's my answer: how 'bout…never."

"I'm being serious, man. He sent us here…"

"Honestly, it doesn't really surprise me that he just dumped us here. It's kinda what he's good at," Elle added.

"I'm sick of doing this with you two," Dean growled. "Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We'll just pick up the search later."

"It doesn't matter what he wants," Sam argued. "He should be here."

"Sam, it's always been about what John Winchester wants and we've just been playing his game our entire lives," Elle said.

"Both of you have piss-poor attitudes when it comes to Dad," Dean said shaking his head. "And that right there is why I always got the extra cookie."

"You do realize that Dad could be in trouble, right? We should be looking for him. We deserve some answers," Sam argued.

"I agree with that last statement whole-heartedly," Elle muttered.

"Dean, I mean this is our family we're talking about."

"I understand that, Sam, but he's given us an order," Dean stated.

"So what? We gotta always follow Dad's orders?"

"Of course we do."

"God forbid the world would end if we didn't," Elle said sarcastically.

"Considering you're hiding something about Dad, you might wanna keep your mouth shut from here on out. And Sammy, you have your family right here. Sure she whines and bitches and my good looks are overwhelming, but at the end of the day we're still family."

"I do not…" Elle started.

"Remember? Mouth. Shut. At least for a minute so I can think."

Elle maturely stuck her tongue out at her brother as he continued to look around the room and examine it. Sam simply shrugged at her and motioned with his head for her to come in further to help them look for something, anything useful to the case. The place wasn't exactly sanitary or up-to-code anymore, not that it ever was. People probably turned a blind eye to what used to happen here; which was probably the root of their problem, whatever it that problem might be. Elle walked to a desk and found a nameplate which she picked up and blew on. The dust came back in her face which caused her to cough.

"Thank you," Dean grumbled as he snatched the plate from Elle's hands while she coughed. "Sanford Ellicott."

"That's something," Sam offered.

"you know what this means. We gotta find out more about the south wing. See if something happened here."

"By we, you mean Sam and I, right?" Elle wheezed. "Unless your friend Jack made a movie about what happened."

"You know me so well, little sister."

"So why don't we go back to the motel and see if we can find any information on this Dr. Ellicott or maybe someone related to him?" Sam suggested.

When they got back to the motel, Elle didn't immediately follow the boys inside. Instead, she said that she had forgotten something in the trunk and said she'd be there in a minute. Truth was, she didn't really forget anything, she just hoped that somehow, if there was a God, that there was still an ibuprofen mixed in the rock salt from when Dean was being a bitch. Thankfully, there were a few left. She just hoped that maybe the extra salt would give the medicine some extra healing power. She slammed the trunk shut, but with her bad wrist, which caused her to wince. The past few days, she was seemingly reminded more and more of how normal and ordinary she was in a supernatural world. Hell, in her current condition, she probably wouldn't last very long without Sam and Dean—or so she thought. She was barely back inside the motel room when Sam said he found a guy named Dr. James Ellicott who was practicing clinical psychiatry. For a moment, hope flickered in Elle's eyes.

"Is it the psychiatrist or the the psychologist that can prescribe drugs?" Elle asked.

"Psychiatrist," Sam answered as he scribbled an address on to a piece of paper.

"I can never remember. Not that I'll ever be seeing either," Elle tried to cover her true intentions.

"Well, one of us has to."

"One…two…three…not it!"

Elle immediately brought her finger to her nose. Dean also pressed the tip of his finger against his nose before he picked it. Sam was left there looking at his siblings—who both pointed out that he was going to be the one to see the psychiatrist. Besides, it had to be Sam. Dean would never step five feet within the office and Elle had other plans that involved the good doctor being distracted…by Sam. Sam shook his head before he called Dr. Ellicott's office to make an appointment. As luck would have it, the doctor had somebody cancel last minute meaning Sam's appointment was at three o'clock. Dean suggested that they get some lunch before then, so they headed to a little diner down the street. Dean got his usual bacon burger and fries, Sam got a salad, and Elle got some chicken tenders and fries with a chocolate shake.

A little before three, the Winchesters pulled up outside of Dr. Ellicott's practice. Dean wished Sam luck before the tallest Winchester got out of the Impala and headed inside the clinic, leaving Elle and Dean outside. For the most part, they just sat in the car, not talking, and listening to Dean's music. Dean had a couple of air drum solos while Elle sat in the back rereading one of the books she had carelessly thrown on the floor. She checked her cellphone for the time. Sam had been in there a while, but it was now or never if her plan was going to work. Elle leaned her face forward onto the front seat.

"One of us should go check on him," Elle said.

"It's not gonna be me. I'm already too close to this place," Dean said.

"Fine, I'll go in and while I'm at it I need to use the bathroom."

"Are you gonna go or are you gonna go into detail about what you're going to do in the bathroom?"

"Would you like me to? I'll take your silence as a no."

"Good guess."

"Hey, you're the one who wants me to be honest."

"About Dad not your bowel movements."

"Would it make you feel better if my reason for the bathroom isn't a bowel movement?"

"Just go."

"I will."

Elle walked into the clinic only to find that the working bathrooms weren't easily accessible. One had to use the ones in the office part of the clinic. Which only worked out better for her plan. There was a dinging sound, notifying the receptionist of her arrival as Elle walked up to the desk where she met a woman who looked somewhat busy on her computer.

"Hey, I'm Elle Winchester. My brother Sam is seeing Dr. Ellicott. I was just gonna wait in the car for him but I really need to use the bathroom…" Elle started.

"That bathroom is for patients only," the receptionist said.

"Please? It's that time of the month and my brothers don't understand why I need to stop and go to the bathroom every couple hours or why I devour anything chocolate in sight."

"My brothers used to do the same thing, honey. Go on ahead. It's around the corner and the second door on your left."

"Thank you so much. You're a life saver."

So far, her ruse was working. Elle walked around the corner and went exactly where the receptionist told her to go. What made things even better was that Dr. Ellicott's office was across the hall from the bathroom. She should have no problem with her plan—although it was highly illegal, but she needed to do this if she wanted to be back on top of things. Elle locked the bathroom door. She was in there no more than a couple of minutes when she heard Sam's voice thanking Ellicott for his time. Elle thanked her lucky stars that Ellicott offered to walk Sam back to the front…meaning that her window of opportunity was small. She listened to the footsteps begin to fade before she flung open the bathroom door and ran across the hall to Ellicott's office. The place was fairly tidy making it easy to find where he kept his prescription pad. Her gut told her that this was wrong, but she was already too far to do anything about it. She then searched the room for the man's signature somewhere. Out of the three Winchesters, she was the best at forgery—not exactly something one should be proud of; but her father even needed use of her skills a time or two. She studied the man's signature for a few seconds before she prescribed herself some Vicodin for the pain in her wrist, careful to get his signature just right. She then tore the prescription from the pad and stuffed it in her pocket as she heard his voice beginning to get a little closer. Elle then ran from the office and stood outside of it for only a few seconds when Ellicott looked at her curiously.

"Can I help you?" Dr. Ellicott asked.

"My brother Sam was just in here? I had to use the bathroom and well now your office is empty and…" Elle began to ramble.

"He just left."

"Oops, well thanks! Bye!"

Elle tripped over the shoelaces of her untied Converse. It was a good thing that the wall was there to break her fall. She checked her pocket to make sure that the prescription paper was still safely stowed away before she left the clinic. The receptionist waved goodbye, so Elle returned the favor before she quickly walked outside to where her brothers were outside leaning against the car.

"So much for no bowel movement," Dean teased. "I just hope those people don't die from your toxic waste."

"So what'd I miss about your visit with Ellicott?" Elle asked completely avoiding Dean's comment.

"Nothing—he wanted to wait for you."

"Aww, such a good big brother. I've trained you well."

"Anytime now, Grandpa. What the hell were you talking about?"

"Just the hospital and the south wing," Sam said with a shrug.

"And?" Elle and Dean asked simultaneously.

"It's where they housed the really hard cases. The psychotics, the criminally insane."

"Sounds cozy," Dean said sarcastically.

"Probably where they'd keep us," Elle added.

"Yeah, well one night in '64, they rioted. Attacked the staff. Attacked each other," Sam continued.

"So the patients took over the asylum?" Dean asked.

"Apparently."

"Were there any deaths?" Elle asked.

"Some patients and staff. I guess it was pretty gory. Some of the bodies were never even recovered, including our chief of staff Ellicott."

"What do you mean, never recovered?" Dean asked.

"It means exactly that. The cops scoured every inch of the place but I guess the patients must've…stuffed the bodies somewhere hidden."

"That's grim."

"Tell me about it. So they transferred the remaining patients and closed down the hospital."

"So, let me get this straight—we've got a bunch of violent deaths and unrecovered bodies?"

"And a bunch of angry spirits."

"This just screams good times," Elle said sarcastically.

"Well, I know where we'll be tonight."

Once again, the Winchesters found themselves back at the motel waiting for the sun to finally go down. While Sam and Dean relaxed a bit, Elle snuck off to the closest pharmacy she could find. She walked up to the counter and handed them the prescription for the Vicodin. They didn't even question the validity—they simply told her to have a seat while they filled her order. This place wasn't as strict as some places were with Vicodin, especially given the addictive nature of the drug. But Elle knew that she needed it to numb the pain…just for a while. She paid for the medicine with some credit card Dean had scammed off of some guy in Mexico before she walked outside. She opened the bottle and took one pill out before she popped it into her mouth. By the time Elle got back to the motel, she found herself quite drowsy, but at least the pain was almost non-existent. She fell onto her bed and quickly fell asleep for a nap. She felt like she had slept no more than five minutes when Dean woke her back up.

"Elle we need to go," Dean said.

"I can't—I have to work," Elle said with a yawn.

"Yeah—on the case."

"No, I told Brian I would cover tonight at the bar for some chick whose name I don't remember."

"You do realize that's not your real job, right?"

"You do realize that you're the one who went out and got me a real job, right?"

"Are you coming or not?"

"Not…this time."

"Unbelievable."

"I'm sure you and Sam will do just fine without me. Besides, I've been getting in the way a lot recently and if you really need me you can always just text me."

"If I die tonight my ass is coming back and haunting yours for eternity and beyond."

"I think it's to infinity and beyond. You know, 'Toy Story'."

Dean shook his head, although, Elle was pretty sure that somewhere along the line she had forced him to watch it despite his protests. But she looked at her phone and knew that she had to get down to the bar for her shift. She felt kinda bad for ditching her brothers, but she wanted to prove a point to Dean. If he was going to mess with her life, well it would eventually catch-up with him and mess with his life. When she got to the bar, Brian put her right to work. Gunderson was there with his brew as was bar guy from the night before. Actually, Elle recognized most of these guys from the night before—they must be the regulars. As Elle worked, she kept texting her brothers to see what was going on, but their responses were rare. She knew that she should be there with them, but she wasn't because she was being stubborn. Her last text from Sam said that there were two teenagers in the asylum, but other than that it felt like radio silence, which was driving her crazy. Crazy to the point that she broke a few glasses which seemed to piss Brian off. Her phone began buzzing in her pocket. She pulled it out expecting to see a text—but instead it was a phone call from Sam. Elle ducked behind the counter and sat on the floor to take the call.

"Elle!"

"Sam?"  
"You gotta get down here right now."

"You and Dean afraid of the dark?"

"Elle, I'm serious. Something's not right here and I can't find Dean."

"Dean's missing?"

"Just hurry."

Elle hung up her phone and swallowed slowly. Now the guilt was really beginning to set it. So much for showing Dean a thing or two. She slowly stood up to find herself face to face with her boss-type-person. He asked her what she was doing and for a few seconds she fumbled to find a decent excuse…but then she remembered one word: family. Her family needed her and that was all that mattered. It didn't matter that her and Dean's relationship wasn't perfect because honestly, it never had been. He needed her and that was all it took.

"Brian, I'm sorry to do this to you, but my brothers really need me. Family first," Elle said.

"You walk out that door and you're done," Brian said.

"Then consider this my letter of resignation or whatever the hell it is you're supposed to turn in."

Elle took the tips she had made and shoved them down her bra just in case Brian tried anything. She then headed for the door, but stopped for a moment to tie her shoe just behind bar guy.

"Damnit, it's going to take me forever to walk," Elle muttered.

"Take mine," bar guy from the night before said holding out his keys. "I'm gonna be here a while."

"Thanks," Elle said as she caught his keys. "I will try and get it back in one piece."

It took Elle a few tries before she found the man's old Ford pickup truck. She quickly started the truck before she drove out to the Roosevelt Asylum, the entire time hoping that she wasn't too late. There was no way she wanted Dean's ass haunting her for eternity. She rubbed absently at her wrist. It didn't even hurt, but it must have been routine by this point to rub it. Elle drove the truck as close as she could to the asylum, which ended up being beside the Impala. She put the truck in park before she picked the lock to the trunk of the Impala to get some supplies. She saw that the container of salt was gone, but she knew that she kept an extra in her bag which was in the backseat. She also grabbed a Zippo lighter and an iron rod. She needed to be prepared for getting Dean back and potentially Sam. Finally, with her bag swung across her shoulders and an iron rod in her hand, Elle ran inside the asylum. Getting inside was actually quite easy, but she wasn't prepared for the doors to slam shut behind here. She pulled at the doors but they wouldn't budge.

"That can't be good," Elle muttered.

Either they had to finish this thing or wait for morning to get out. Finishing the thing was going to be the easier option. Elle slowly continued toward the south wing with a flashlight in one hand and the iron rod in the other. Once again, as she found the south wing, the door was easy to open but it slammed shut behind her. She cursed under her breath for not thinking of getting something as a door stop. Elle looked in every room that she could find. After she had looked in about half a dozen rooms, the sound of a gun fired and something nailed Elle in the leg and it hurt like hell.

"Fuck! That hurt! Dean, if that's you I'm going to murder you after you're already dead!"

Two teenagers poked their heads out from behind the doorframe. They both looked so innocent and so terrified… Elle somewhat regretted swearing at them, but it really hurt. Elle slowly limped toward them but the girl held the gun up again. The Winchester girl groaned and stopped putting her hands up in defense.

"You—You said you know Dean?" the girl stammered.

"And Sam, they're my brothers," Elle responded. "And a gun filled with salt rounds isn't going to kill me because I'm human, so can you please lower it."

"How did you know it was filled with salt?" the boy asked.

"Because I'm the one that loaded it this afternoon. Now where are my brothers?"

"The basement," the girl answered. "But it was weird though…Sam said he got a phone call from Dean that he needed help. But when Dean came back, he said he never made a phone call."

"Wait, you saw Dean after Sam went to the basement?"

"Yeah, and then Dean went to the basement. And there was this thing about Room 137."

"Meaning that whatever piece of shit is doing this, is in the basement. Of course, it always has to be the creepy basement. Why can't they ever haunt a candy store?"

"It would be sweeter…get it, sweeter?" the boy chuckled.

"Well, you two just stay here and shoot at anything that isn't human. If I'm not back in say—forty-five minutes, well, just hope that I'm back by then with my brothers by then."

Elle started to walk away from them when the girl called out to her.

"You never told us your name!"

Elle turned around and stared at the girl for a moment. Why the hell was her name important?

"You know, just in case something happens."

"Elle, my name is Elle."

"I'm Kat by the way."

"I'd say it was nice to meet you, but given the circumstances…"

"Yeah."

Elle simply nodded her head as the boy stared dumbfounded at her as she trekked toward the basement stairs. When she finally found the stairs she proceeded with extreme caution, unsure of what was around every corner. Elle found a room that looked in complete and utter shambles, not to mention that the dust looked rather fresh. She stepped inside and noted that there was an entrance to another room. She kept herself to the edge of the wall before she poked her head around the corner. She saw Sam with a gun pointed at Dean who was lying in the fetal position on the floor. Dean must have noticed her because his eyes widened for a second, but Elle quickly hid back behind the wall and counted to five when Dean started talking.

"We gotta burn Ellicott's bones which are right over here in this cabinet and this will all be over and you'll be back to normal."

She was pretty sure that Dean was saying this more for her benefit than for Sam's because in one sentence she knew three things. Ellicott was the spirit haunting the place, his bones were in that room, and he was possessing Sam. Elle was about to go barging in there when Sam began to talk in a voice that didn't sound completely like his.

"I am normal. I'm just telling the truth for the first time. I mean, why are we even here? I don't want to be here. Elle certainly doesn't want to be chasing after Dad. But no. You're following Daddy's orders like a good little soldier. Because you always do what he says without question. Are you that desperate for his approval? Are you that pathetic?"

"Well, if you hate me so much go ahead and pull that trigger. Do it!"

Elle slowly inched inside the room. Sam or whoever was busy possessing Sam was too busy pulling the trigger to notice her sneaking up from behind.

"Sammy, I'm really sorry about this," Elle muttered before she attempted gently hit Sam over the head enough with her iron rod to knock him out. "That's probably gonna hurt for a while."

"Well, he needed a time-out for his attitude and don't think I wouldn't do the same to you. Now come on, we got a body to salt and burn," Dean said.

Dean pulled the curtains of the cupboard open and gagged at the sight of Ellicott's mummified corpse. Elle too covered her mouth and nose from the smell. Dean began pouring piles of salt over the bones with his jacket covering his mouth and nose from the stench. There was a rustling from behind which caused Elle to turn around as Dean poured kerosene over the body.

"Did you hear that?" Elle asked Dean.

"Hear what?" Dean questioned.

"I don't know. I thought…"

Elle stepped back out from behind the curtain and in that moment Dean was knocked to the floor by a gurney that came flying across the room. Elle's eyes widened as she saw Dr. Ellicott…or what she assumed was Dr. Ellicott grab Dean's face before his hands lit up light like lights on a Christmas tree. Elle knew it was probably jolts of electricity running through Dean's body but there was only one thing she could do to end it. She knew it had to be here when she saw Dean's lighter out of his reach.

"Hey, you piece of shit!" Elle taunted. "You ever play golf? Because I'm about to get a hole in one!"

Ellicott's face turned to look at her as Elle lit her Zippo lighter before she tossed it past Dean and spirit Ellicott and it landed almost perfectly on the corpse. Almost immediately, the thing burst into flames. Ellicott released Dean who crawled over to where his sister stood. The two Winchesters watched as Ellicott's ghost turned black and then fell to the ground, crumbling on impact.

"You came Elly-Belly," Dean said hoarsely.

"Yeah. You were right about one thing earlier—we're family. You might piss me off and drive me crazy ninety percent of the time, but you and Sam are the only family I can actually stand. And not to kick you while you're down, but if you call me 'Elly-Belly' again, I'm going to kick you in the balls."

"Looks like we wait for Sleeping Beauty now."

Dean and Elle sat beside an unconscious Sam for a few minutes before he began to slowly wake up. He looked in confusion between his two siblings as he propped himself up on his elbows.

"When the hell did you get here?" Sam asked Elle.

"Sometime after you got hijacked by Ellicott and before I knocked you out," Elle responded.

"Speaking of—you're not gonna try and kill me again, are you?" Dean asked.

"No," Sam said sitting up and rubbing the back of his head.

"Good. Because that would be awkward, not to mention that you made Elle a little jealous."

"Can we just get the hell out of here?" Elle asked. "My bed is speaking to me. It's saying 'Come to me, Elle. Sleep on me, Elle.'"

"You hear some weird shit, but let's go."

The three Winchesters found Gavin and Kat waiting for them right where Elle had left them. Elle was careful to call out to them that they were coming. Thankfully, her Vicodin hadn't worn off too much. So beyond the initial pain, she hadn't felt much of it actually. The five of them left the asylum and found the early morning light beginning to break across the sky. Elle wanted nothing more than to crawl in her bed, but the sight of the truck she had borrowed caused her to groan slightly. However, she could see Kat was reluctant to get in Gavin's car. It was then she had an idea.

"Hey, Kat," Elle called.

"Yeah?"

"You wanna take this truck back into town?"

"For sure."

"I can give you a ride," Gavin pleaded.

"After the hell you just put me through, you'll be lucky if I even want to speak to you again."

Elle tossed the teenage girl the keys before she told her where to drop it off. Elle then crawled into the back of the Impala where she found her pillow and Tigger welcoming her as her brothers had some sort of moment outside the car. Elle had just gotten comfortable when Dean got inside the car followed by Sam. Apparently, they were going to head back to the hotel to sleep it off before hitting the road once again.

Once at the motel, Elle raced Dean inside for his bed—and she won. She relished in the victory of forcing Dean to the rollaway bed she had been on. She had a good night's rest in the bigger bed as she sprawled out on it so that she took up practically the entire bed. In the morning, when she awoke, her wrist was giving her slight pain. She needed it…a pill… but she didn't want Sam or Dean to know, so she grabbed the bottle and headed for the bathroom. She splashed her face with cool water before she opened the pill bottle. Elle examined her appearance in the mirror and then popped another Vicodin into her mouth before taking a swig of water out of the sink by simply putting her mouth underneath the faucet. She wiped at her mouth before she slowly headed back into the main room. As she walked toward the beds, the cellphone on the bedside table began to ring. Dean didn't move. Sam opened an eye to see his sister standing at the end of her bed.

"Elle, get the phone," Sam groaned.

"No, you're closer," Elle groaned back.

"You're actually up."

"Saaammmmmyyyyy."

"Fine."

Sam picked up the phone and answered it. Not two seconds later did he jolt straight up in bed saying the one word Elle was not expecting to hear this early in the morning: Dad.


	12. Scarecrow

At the mention of Dad, Elle slowly backed away from the bed, tripping over Dean's shoes that he left in the middle of the floor. She fell to the floor before she quickly scurried to the end of the bed to shield herself from whatever her father might possibly have to say. Instead, she just sat there listening from the floor. Sammy barely had more than a few words with him when Dean suddenly wanted to talk to him. It eventually got to the point where Dean went over and stole the phone from Sam; but Dean's attempts at conversation with their father were cut short by the need to write down some names. Elle rested her head back against the bed and blew a stray tendril that fell from her braid out of her face. Suddenly, Dean's face was leaning over hers which caused her to swat at him. He quickly backed away from her before he began the next conversation.

"Elle, he wants to talk to you," Dean said sternly.

"Nice try," Elle scoffed.

"I'm friggin serious. Dad wants to talk to you."

"No."

"What do you mean, no?"

"It means that I'm not talking to him."

"Elle, he says it's important."

"What don't you understand about no?"

Dean put his hand over the receiver of the cellphone and stared at Elle for a moment before he began to speak.

"You're never going to get what you want from him by avoiding him."

"I'm never going to get it, Dean. He hates me."

"What kind of person asks to talk to a person they hate?"

"John Winchester."

"Just take the friggin phone."

He threw the phone at her which she caught because a force of habit. She swore loudly as she looked at the phone in her hands before she told Dean that she hated him. She didn't want to talk to him. But there was a part of her that did want to talk to him. A part of her that hoped maybe he would her that he'd been an ass for all these years. Her heart began to beat faster. Elle exhaled slowly before she put the cellphone up to her ear. She listened for a moment; the only thing she could ear was her father's breathing.

"Campbell, are you there?" John Winchester's voice came across low, but clearly.

"What do you think?" Elle scoffed.

"Are your brothers in the room?"

"I literally took the phone from Dean a couple of seconds ago. Do I really need to answer that?"

"Leave the room."

"Why?"

"I'm not asking you. I'm telling you."

"Really? Why couldn't you ask Dean to look for your stupid thing in the car? This is friggin' ridiculous. I'm not your personal slave."

Elle rolled her eyes at Dean as she motioned with her free hand for him to toss her the keys to the Impala. She mouthed I hate you to her brother. Dean chuckled to himself before he threw her the keys which she didn't catch. She bent down and muttered something into the phone before she picked up the keys. Still in her sweatpants and long-sleeved t-shirt, Elle slipped her Ugg boots on her feet before she walked for the door. She gave Dean one last look and eye roll before she walked outside the hotel room and leaned against the door. She exhaled loudly enough for her father to hear her over the phone before she started walking toward the Impala.

"They buy it?"

"Well, I don't see either of them following me."

"You always were quite the actress."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Besides, it's not like you really know anything about me."

"Can you not be a smartass for a couple minutes? I have something I need to discuss with you."

"I learned from the best."

"Campbell."

"Fine. But I can't guarantee anything."

"I need you to keep your brothers distracted."

"Why is it that you get to ask and ask from me but I don't get to ask anything of you?"

"I mean it. I'm on the trail for this demon that killed your m—Mary and Sammy's girl. I don't want your brothers mixed up in this. It's a dangerous road that I wouldn't wish on anyone. I have to do this alone. I need you to help me keep them safe. Dean will listen…for now. But Sammy…"

"Yeah, he can be a stubborn ass. But why me?"

"Have you kept what happened in Wisconsin from your brothers?"

"Yes, I've kept my mouth shut. Which I think is stupid. Dean's been pissed at me for weeks and it's all your fault."

"Exactly my point."

"Was that a compliment?"

"You know how to keep a secret. That's all."

"I'll do it, but only if you answer me something."

"That depends on what you're asking."

"Have you figured out what that thing was back in Wisconsin?"

"I've been hunting the demon that killed my wife. Do you really think I had time for that?"

"A simple no would have been sufficient."

By this point, Elle had walked over to the Impala, unlocked it, and was seated inside. She sat in the highly coveted front seat with her boots up on the dash—something Dean would never let her do. There was an awkward lull in the conversation. She really didn't have anything else she wanted to say to the man which whom she received some genes from. So instead, the two Winchesters let the silence linger over them for several moments. Elle was the one to break the silence.

"Is that all you wanted?"

"I—uh-Elle, I—uh—I have something else I need to say."

"You might want to make it quick because I'm going to hang up on you."

"I—uh—I—. No. I'm—uh."

"Anytime now. Hanging up in five…four…"

"Forget it. Now's not right."

"No, tell me."

"Just do what you're supposed to. That's all."

"Yeah, I'm not stupid. I got that much."

"Remember…"

"Yeah, all your friggin' secrets are safe with me…for now."

Not wanting to hear what John could possibly say next she pulled the phone away from her ear and pressed the end button. She dropped the phone onto the front seat and just sat there for several minutes. She thought about the conversation. True, she probably didn't need to be so snarky with him, but he deserved it after being a royal asshole to her. Yet, she couldn't help but think that the last minute or so of their conversation took a turn into somewhere awkward. Elle was pretty sure that really wasn't what he wanted to tell her; but she had absolutely no idea what else he possibly could have wanted to say to her—other than to express his hatred of her. But then again, she was the one letting him manipulate her. She should have just held her ground and refused to talk to him—but there was something in the pit of her stomach that wanted to talk to him. And yet, she was probably more of an ass in that conversation than he was. Elle closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. Why did everything have to be so complicated? And yet she was just going further down the rabbit hole with all these lies she now had to keep track of. Knowing that she had another show to put on for her brothers, Elle reached for her Tigger, this way she had proof she went to the car before she walked back to the motel room. She took a deep breath before she headed back inside where Dean instantly met her.

"What'd he want?" Dean asked.

"Next time he needs his bitch work done, it's your turn," Elle hissed.

"It went that well?"

"Just leave me alone, please."

Elle plopped back onto the bed tightly clutching Tigger. Surprisingly, her ruse wasn't that far off from her actual feelings: confusion. She didn't get to dwell in her self-pity party for long because Dean told her to get her things packed-up because they were heading out of town to Burkitsville, Indiana where Dad had told Dean to go. Elle wanted to complain, but she thought back to the conversation she had with her father. She was supposed to keep them on the trail their father was laying for them. While her initial reaction would be to do the opposite of what her father told her to do; she did want to keep Sam and Dean safe. Deep down, some part of her was fine with her father going off and finding the thing on his own. She was even somewhat fine if he didn't actually come back…but she knew that she couldn't stomach the fact of losing either of her brothers to whoever this demon was. Elle slowly got up from the bed she had been laying on. She saw that her Vicodin bottle had fallen out of her sweatpants pocket, so before either Sam and Dean could see, she quickly snatched the container and put it into the bag she carted around with her. She had only had the pills for a couple of days and she was trying to be careful about using them. She knew how highly addictive they were—but she also knew that her wrist would give her too much pain if she didn't take them. She didn't need yet another reason to be considered inferior to Sam and Dean because of something as human and ordinary as an injured wrist.

Thirty minutes later, the three Winchester siblings were eating breakfast at the small diner just down the road from the motel they checked out of. Knowing that it was her job to keep her brothers on their father's orders as long as possible, Elle took an usually long time to find something she wanted to eat. And then, she changed her order twice…which pissed the waitress and probably the cook off. Dean didn't question her, but he did give her quite a few odd looks. When her order of biscuits and gravy with a side of bacon finally came to the table, Sam and Dean were already done eating and since they were forced to wait for her anyway, she wasted even more time eating as slowly as she possibly could. As Elle ate, Sam flipped through Dad's journal trying to find out whatever he could, but Elle could tell that Sam wasn't really focusing on the case. Dean snatched the journal from Sam who didn't protest the move. Instead, he just sat there with a pensive look on his face looking out the window. As Sam moved to pay the bill and Dean headed for the car, Elle quickly scribbled an apology to the waitress on a napkin and put two twenty dollar bills underneath the tip Sam had already left. Hopefully, if it existed, karma wouldn't prove to be a bitch about this and bite her in the ass.

Elle made Dean pull over many times for unnecessary bathroom breaks or snack breaks. She could tell that his patience was beginning to wear thin with her. A trip that should have taken no more than four or five hours was already going on eight hours and they were still several hours away from Burkitsville. When they stopped for dinner, Dean told Elle that this was the last break he was going to take before they got to their destination. While they waited for their food, Dean made several phone calls, which Elle assumed that he was already beginning to do work on their new case. Sam looked rather annoyed as he began to eat his dinner of chicken with a rice pilaf. Elle wasn't really hungry because of the stops she took for snacks, so she simply ordered a bowl of soup. After Dean hung up the phone, Elle was surprised that Sam didn't say anything. Then again, Sam was too deep in thought, but he only remained so until they were back in the Impala and headed down the dark stretch of highway. Sam was the one driving the car as Dean attempted to get comfortable to take a nap after making sure that Sam promised not to stop for anything Elle asked.

"Dean, this is stupid," Sam groaned.

"Yeah, I agree—if Elle wouldn't have taken so many bathroom breaks we'd have been there hours ago. If I didn't know better I'd say that she's pregnant or something," Dean scoffed.

"Thanks," Elle said sarcastically.

"Hey, I said that I know better."

"I'm being serious. I mean, what do we even know about the names Dad gave us?" Sam questioned.

"Three different couples. They all went missing," Dean said.

"People go missing every day, Dean."

"Yeah, but these couples came from all over the country—Washington, New York, Colorado…all on a cross-country trip and none of them arrived at their destination and none of them were heard from again."

"It's a big country. They could've disappeared anywhere."

"Don't you think it's too much of a coincidence that all of them end up through Burkitsville?" Elle asked.

"And there's the fact that it's always the second week of April. One year after another after another," Dean said.

"And what a quinky-dink that it's the second week of April."

"How about that."

"So what? Dad's sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?" Sam asked.

"Yahtzee! Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different obits Dad had to go through? The man's a master," Dean said with a smile.

"I even have to admit that it was good work," Elle sighed.

Sam didn't respond with words. Instead, he pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned it off. Elle knew that when Sam got like this—one had to tread carefully around him. He was in one of his moods…but leave it to Dean to not see that.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Dean asked.

"We're not going to Indiana," Sam stated.

"We're already in Indiana," Elle said matter-of-factly.

"Then I'm going to turn the damn car around. We're going to California. I've been thinking about this all day. Dad called from a payphone in Sacramento. That's where we're going," Sam responded.

"There's no guarantee that he'd even be there by the time we got there."

"Elle's right, Sam," Dean added.

"Guys, if this is the demon that killed Mom and Jess, and Dad's closing in…we've gotta be there. We've gotta help," Sam argued.

"Dad doesn't want our help."

"I don't care!"

"Sam, c'mon…there are innocent lives we can save. Isn't that important enough?" Elle asked.

"Of course it's important, but I'm talking one week here, Elle. To get answers and get some revenge."

"Then why not after we get this job done?"

"Because by that point we won't know where Dad is. This is the first time we actually know where he is."

"Look, Sammy, I get it. I know how you feel," Dean added.

"Do you, Dean?" Sam snapped.

"Whoa," Elle muttered before Sam continued.

"How old were you when Mom died, Dean? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel?"

"Sam, that's low. A loss is a loss."

"Then what right do you have to be talking right now? You haven't lost anyone."

"You don't mean that. You're just acting irrational right now."

"It's me your mad at—don't take this out on Elle," Dean hissed.

"How about we just turn this car around and forget everything?" Sam angrily suggested.

"No. Dad said that it wasn't safe. For any of us. I mean, he obviously knows something that we don't, so if he says to stay away…we stay away."

"You know what? I don't understand the blind faith you have in the man. I mean, it's like you don't even question him."

"It's called being a good son!"

Sam slammed his hands against the wheel causing the horn to go off for a brief moment before he tried to get his seatbelt off. He then got out of the car and slammed the driver's door behind him. Elle bit her bottom lip in frustration as Dean muttered to himself before he opened his door. Elle and Dean made eye contact for a moment.

"Dean, go easy on him, please," Elle said before she turned looked out rearview window as Sam opened the trunk.

"He needs to hear this," Dean muttered before he shut his door behind him.

"Damnit."

Dean walked around to the trunk of the car as Sam was quickly unloading his things out of the trunk. Elle watched and listened as the interaction grew tenser and more aggressive from the backseat while she tried to pull her boots back on her socked-feet. This was escalating from bad to worse.

"You're a selfish bastard, you know that?" Dean shouted at Sam. "You just do whatever you want. Don't care what anybody thinks—just walk out on your family. You know for being so pissed at the guy you claim walked out on us—you're following awfully close in his footsteps."

"That's what you really think?" Sam scoffed.

"Yeah, it is."

"Well then, this selfish bastard is going to California."

"Come on, you're not serious?"

"I am serious."

"It's the middle of the friggin' night. Hey! I will take off without you! I will leave your ass, you hear me?"

"That's what I want you to do!"

Elle watched as Sam and Dean simply stared at each other for a few seconds—both waiting to call the other on their bluff. Dean then shouted goodbye and slammed the trunk shut. As Dean walked around to the driver's side, Elle escaped from the back passenger's side door and ran toward Sam. She called his name several times before he stopped and turned around and looked at her—with regret clearly visible in his face. But if Elle knew one thing—he was a Winchester and stubbornness ran strong. She needed to get appeal to his stubbornness, but it was near impossible when he got like this. Dean called to her, but instead she stayed close to where Sam stood in the middle of the road.

"Sam, don't leave," Elle begged her voice feeble from being on the brink of tears. "Please, don't do this."

"It's what I seem to do best," Sam retorted.

"Sam! It doesn't have to be like this.""

"Come with me then, Elle-Belle. It's either him or me."

"Don't you dare give me an ultimatum. I don't want to choose between the two of you. I need you both."

"It looks like you already made your choice anyway. Just like last time."

~*~Flashback~*~

Elle simply stood there watching as Sam and her father got into the biggest argument they'd ever had and to stay things didn't end well was an understatement. They were pulled over at some creepy and abandoned farmhouse to gank some sort of ghost when Sam went postal. While Elle wanted to take Sam's side in the matter, she kept her mouth shut. She wanted her father's approval, which meant that she didn't go against him, even when he was wrong. Elle watched as Dad told Sam that if he wanted to leave, that he could…but to never come back. Sam then began to walk away from the farmhouse as her father ordered Dean to go inside. Elle simply stood there wondering what to do; but in her heart, she knew that she needed to make sure Sam was all right. To be positive that this whole thing would just blow over, despite the stubbornness of both her brother and father.

"Sam, where are you going?" Elle asked innocently.

"Anywhere but here," Sam scoffed.

"Don't go."

"You heard, Dad, back there."

"He didn't mean it."

"He was pretty convincing."

"Sam."

"Elle, I'm just done. I'm done dealing with him and this crappy life he's provided for us. Don't you ever think that we're made for something more?"

"Of course, but we can't just leave him."

"Why not?"

"It just wouldn't be right. Besides, I know I'd never make it out there on my own."

"Then come with me. You and me. The two of us against the world."

"I like the sound of that."

"Yeah? Me too."

"So now what?"

"Go inside and get your stuff. We'll go to the bus station and get on the first bus out of this place. Just you and me."

"What'll we do?"

"We have a whole bus ride to talk about it. What'd you say?"

"What'll Dad think?"

"Screw him. It's what he's done to us all these years."

"I—I—let me get my stuff."

"Make it quick."

Elle grinned as she turned around and ran back toward the car. She was only a few yards away before Sam called to her again causing her to almost run into a tree to stop herself.

"Hey, Elle!" Sam called.

"Yeah?" Elle said turning around with a smile as she pulled her hair behind her ears.

"Can you grab me some underwear while you're at it!"

With a chuckle, Elle finished her run back to the Impala. No one was in the car, so Dean must have been with their father. Elle's heart slightly sunk at the thought of Dean. He was going to be all alone with John Winchester. He had always been there for her and now…she was leaving him. They both were leaving him. Elle pulled one of her bags from the backseat before she went around to the trunk. She pulled out her duffel and Sam's before she slammed the trunk shut. Elle caught a glimpse of her stuffed Tigger which was poking its head out the rearview window. Part of her wanted to grab it, but deep down she knew that Dean would probably need it more than she did—as stupid as that sounded. She turned back one last time toward the abandoned farmhouse hoping that Dean and her father could see them and that at any second one of them would come bursting out and catch them. But that didn't happen. Elle made it back to Sam and tossed him his duffel before they began walking down the long, dark stretch of highway, just the two of them. She shivered as they walked down the side of the road, so Sam handed her a Stanford sweatshirt that he had accumulated. It was way too big for her, but she pulled it over her cold body anyway.

"So what are we gonna do?" Elle asked.

"Pray we have enough money for two bus tickets," Sam joked.

"I mean after that. After we're on a bus to parts unknown."

"We could go to school."

"We already 'graduated' high school and I even graduated a year early because I'm awesome."

"More like because you couldn't keep a secret and I don't mean high school. I mean college. It's what normal people our age do."

"First of all, I was six and I didn't know any better. Nobody told me that part of my life was a secret too. As far as college goes—if we can barely afford two bus tickets, how are we gonna pay for even one person's tuition?"

"Do you like the idea or not."

"Yeah, I do but…"

"Then we will figure out a way to pay for it."

"How?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"I hate that saying. Why don't people just say: I don't really have a good answer right now and I hope that you'll forget you even asked this, so I don't have to ever give you an answer?"

"Because that's too long."

"But it's the truth."

"And you know that part of this life is hiding the truth."

"Is that why you want out? Are you sick of all the lies?"

"Yeah, that's part of it. And part of it is that I'm sick and tired of having to constantly be on the lookout. I just want to be normal."

"You? Normal? That's a laugh," Elle teased.

"I mean it, Elle. Haven't you ever wondered what our lives would be like if…"

"Of course I have. You know I have."

"I think it's what Mom would have wanted for us."

Elle didn't say anything else at the mention of their mother. Honestly, she never knew how to respond to anything about her. She never even got the chance to meet her and yet there was a strange sense of loss there that she couldn't explain. She sighed as she struggled to keep up with Sam's pace, given the fact that his stride was nearly twice the size of hers. She wasn't sure how long they walked, but they did so until they came to the small town and the bus station. Elle stood beside Sam as he was at the counter paying for the two cheapest bus tickets to whatever place the next bus was going to. When the tickets were purchased, they found a bench where they would have to wait for the next bus to show up in two hours. Elle fell asleep curled against Sam, with his arm resting around her shoulder almost as if he were protecting her, while they waited.

"Elle, let's go."

Elle swung her bags over her shoulders and began to walk toward the bus with Sam when she suddenly stopped. Sam turned around and looked at her with a confused expression on his face. Damn it. Why did she have to have such an over-active conscience?

"Sam—I—I—can't."

"Why?"

"Dean."

"Dean's a big boy, Elle. He can handle himself."

"With Dad?"

"Dean likes Dad."

"But he also likes us. It's gonna be bad enough for him to lose one of us. I don't think he could handle losing us both at the same time."

"What are you saying?"

"One of us needs to go back for Dean."

"No. This is our chance."

"It's your chance right now. Just let me make sure that Dean can handle it. I'll meet you in a couple of months."

"You promise?"

"Yeah. You just need to leave me some bread crumbs. Some friggin' obvious ones too."

"This is a lot harder now that I know I'm saying goodbye to you too."

"Just for now."

"Are you sure I can't change your mind?"

"You should know better than to try to do that."

Elle could feel the tears beginning to sting her eyes as Sam's arms came crashing around her. As he hugged her, she couldn't control the tears. Why couldn't she just let herself be happy? Why did she have to be so concerned about everyone else before herself? She wanted to have that normal life with Sam—but like she told him, she couldn't just leave Dean. Not yet. Especially after everything she had been through with Dean. Dean had practically raised them. He deserved at least a bit of a heads-up and not as much heartache. It would be easier this way. She could prepare Dean for the reality of not having her around. When Sam released her, Elle tried to wipe away any evidence of the tears that had spilled, but Sam didn't seem to mind. Instead, he wiped at her cheek with his jacket sleeve. Elle tried to hand him her bus ticket back, so that he could cash it in for more money, but he refused to take it. He told her that she would need it when she tried to find him. Elle hugged him once more before the man called the final call for the bus.

"I know we don't really say this sort of thing and it might sound kinda weird…" Sam started. "But I thought you should know that I love you, baby sister."

"I love you too, loser," Elle whispered.

"Really? The last thing you're going to do is call me a name?" Sam chuckled.

"It's a sign of affection. I don't call just anybody a loser." Elle said wiping at her eyes.

Sam had to bend down to kiss Elle's cheek before he ran toward the bus. Elle stood there watching him go…a scene that she wouldn't forget. He climbed onto the bus before he found a window seat facing Elle. He pressed his hand against the glass and Elle raised her hand, like she could somehow touch his hand. She stood there with her hand raised as the bus finally pulled out of the station with Sammy gone from her life. She stood there…unable to fathom what actually happened. He actually left them…left her.

~*~End Flashback~*~

"Please don't leave me," Elle whispered with her tears blinding her vision. "Not again."

But unlike last time, Sam didn't turn around to look at her as he left. He just kept walking.

"Fine! Be an ass!" Elle shouted.

Sam stopped walking for a moment. Elle hoped that he would turn around and look at her, but he didn't. He just stood there.

"You coming or going?" Dean called.

Elle turned toward Dean who was leaning against the Impala watching her. She then turned back around to see Sam continue walking. With a sigh, Elle went back to Dean…like she always did. Only this time, she hopped in the front seat of the Impala. The seat Sammy had been occupying for months while she had been relocated to the backseat. Not wanting to look weak, Elle held back the tears she wished she could release as she slammed the passenger's side door shut. Dean got in the car after her and put the car into drive. Elle watched Sam's figure grow smaller and smaller in her mirror until he disappeared altogether. Elle curled her knees up to her chest and sighed loudly.

"You chose right," Dean said.

"I didn't choose. Not really," Elle muttered.

She turned around and yanked her bag from the backseat. Her hand plunged into the bag for her sketchbook. She began to flip through the pages until she came to what she was looking for. On the back of a sketch of her with Sam was the unused bus ticket. Of all the regrets she had in this life…this was probably one of the bigger ones. The what-ifs began to plague her thoughts. What if she had just gone with Sam that night? Would they be in this situation now? What would have happened to Dean? God, she hated being put in the middle of things. She tried to avoid it as best as she could, but right now trying to play things neutrally didn't work out for her the way she had hoped. Dean certainly wasn't in the mood to talk about things as he turned up whatever AC/DC song he had playing. The only thing left for Elle to do was to try and fall asleep to ignore the world around her. Luckily, she had years of practice at falling asleep to Dean's music, so when she shut her eyes and focused on slowing down her breathing she was finally able to get a little shut-eye. Elle awoke to Dean slapping her thigh which caused her to bolt upright in her seat.

"What the hell?" Elle groaned.

"Morning to you too, sunshine," Dean grinned.

"You are way too happy right now. Especially after…"

"Rule number one—we're not going to talk about that. Ever."

"I thought rule number one was…"

"New day. New rules. Now wipe the drool off your face, we're about ten miles out."

Elle sighed, unsure if this was better or worse than his reaction last time.

~*~ Flashback~*~

Elle nervously picked up the payphone outside the bus station from which Sam had departed nearly an hour ago. She took a deep breath before she dialed her oldest brother's number. Her heart seemed to beat harder with every ring until Dean groggily answered the phone. Elle's felt her stomach drop at the sound of Dean's voice. He was going to kill her when he found out. Her hand shook a bit as she held onto the receiver as Dean continued.

"Where the hell are you two?" Dean grumbled.

"How did you know it was me?" Elle asked.

"Who else would call me this friggin' early?"

"True."

"So are you gonna tell me where you guys are?"

"We—uh—we went for a walk and ended up in town."

"Figures you two would do something like that."

"Can you come get me?"

"Where are you guys at?"

"I—uh—I'm at the payphone near the—uh—the bus station."

"Give me a bit. Tell Sammy to buy you some breakfast while you wait."

"Dean—there's something I need to tell you…"

"You two can apologize to me when I get there."

Elle wanted to tell him more, but she never got the chance because Dean hung up. She wrapped Sam's sweatshirt tighter around her body as she sat outside on a bench waiting for Dean. About a half-hour later, Dean pulled up in the Impala. She grew more and more nervous as Dean seemed to look all around her.

"Where's Sammy?" Dean asked.

"Dean, Sam's—uh—Sam's gone," Elle whispered.

"What did you say?"

"He's gone. He got on a bus and left."

"Why didn't you stop him?"

"He wasn't happy, Dean. He just needs a break from it all."

"But we're family and that's supposed to mean something."

"You honestly want this life for the rest of your life?"

"It's not about what I want, you want, or what he wants. We're a team and now we're down a man."

"I knew you wouldn't take this well," Elle muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing. Can we just go?"

"Dad's not going to like this."

"Dad's the one who told him that if he walked out—he shouldn't come back."

"He didn't mean it. Sam should have known better."

"Dean, it's done. It's over with and there's really nothing we can do to change it. Sam's a grown-ass adult. Now, I really just want to get some sleep in an actual bed. So, if we could please…"

"Fine. Get in."

Elle groaned as she practically fell into the front seat of the Impala. Dean looked rather tense as his knuckles were white, clutched tightly against the steering wheel. He started speeding off before Elle even had her door shut, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he just drove; but Elle became puzzled when he drove right by the run-down motel they had been staying at. Elle looked at the motel in the rearview window before she turned to her brother.

"Dean, we just passed the motel."

"I know."

"Where the hell are we going?"

"We're going to go get Sammy and drag his ass back here."

"Dad's not going to like this."

"What Dad doesn't know isn't going to hurt him."

"How do you know which way he went?"

"I'm not an idiot. I saw that only one bus left from the time you disappeared until I picked you up."

Dean sped down the highway, not paying any attention to the posted speed limit. While Sam still had many miles on them, they quickly approached the next town over. They were almost there when Dean's phone began to buzz on the seat between them. Elle picked it up and noticed that it was their father's number calling.

"It's Dad," Elle said.

"Give it here," Dean sighed.

For a moment, a brief thought flickered through Elle's mind. Maybe they could not bring Sam back. Maybe the three of them could start a life together. They could be a normal family…have the apple pie life that Sammy had so often talked about…and maybe their Dad could see what life could be like for them outside of the hunters' life.

"You could not answer it."

"Like you said, it's Dad."

Elle sighed as reluctantly put the phone in Dean's hand. He accepted the call and pressed the phone against his ear.

"Hey, Dad…Yes, sir…no, sir…yes, sir….yes, sir…I understand, sir."

Dean pulled over to the side of the road before he hung up the phone. He looked somewhat perturbed as he dropped his phone onto the seat. He then looked out the window before doing a U-turn, heading back toward town and the motel.

"What'd Dad say?"

"That we need to get our asses back to the motel."

"What about going to get Sam?"

"He says this is a lesson Sammy needs to learn on his own."

"What lesson?"

"He didn't say, but if this is what Dad wants. It's what we're going to do."

"I'm not arguing with you. I get it."

Or at least she thought she understood it—or that she should try to understand it in order to gain her father's approval. But given the fact that Dean was about ready to go after Sam, she wasn't sure that he could handle losing her right now too. Elle took one last look back in the direction Sam's bus went. No, this was not the time to be leaving Dean and she wasn't sure when the right time would be.

~*~ End Flashback~*~

Dean pulled the car alongside an old hardware store in the small town of Burkitsville. Elle just sat there staring outside at the near-empty town, lost in thought. Dean cleared his throat but that did nothing to get Elle's attention, so he bulled at the braid in her hair. She groaned before she shot him an annoyed glance as he nodded toward the outside with his head. Elle sighed before she slowly got out of the Impala and walked down the sidewalk beside her oldest brother. They came upon a place called Scotty's Café where a man was sitting outside in a chair on the porch. Dean pointed on the sign and smiled at the guy.

"Let me guess, Scotty?" Dean asked.

"Yep," the man responded.

"Hi, my name's John Bonham and this is my partner—uh-Paige Plant," Dean said.

"Bonham? Page? Plant? Aren't they in Led Zeppelin?" the guy asked.

"Wow. Good. Classic rock fan," Dean responded, clearly impressed.

"Mom was too—she'd have to be to give us names like that. I'm considering changing mine," Elle added.

"I thought his last name was Bonham and yours was Plant?" Scotty questioned.

"Half-siblings," Dean covered. "Ma, bless her soul, got around a bit."

"Well, what can I do for you both, John, Paige?" Scotty asked.

"We were wondering if—uh—you'd seen these people by chance," Dean asked as he handed the man two pieces of paper from his coat pocket. Elle glanced over to see that they were the missing persons' fliers for Holly and Vince Parker.

"No, can't say that I have. Who were they?"

"They were old family friends," Dean responded. "They went missing about a year ago. They passed through somewhere around here, and I've already asked around Scottsburg and Salem and—"

"Sorry, we don't get many strangers around here," Scotty said handing the papers back to Dean.

Dean parted with a snarky comment before he practically dragged Elle down the sidewalk with him. Elle turned to take one look back at Scotty who eyed them suspiciously until he noticed her looking back at him. Then the man stood up and walked back into his store. Dean found an empty alley and walked Elle into it before he threw his hands up in the air to question her.

"What the hell happened back there? The only thing you said nearly blew our cover and made me liken Mom to a whore," Dean hissed.

"I'm sorry," Elle muttered.

"You're off your game."

"I wonder why?"

"If you're talking about what I think you're talking about….then don't because you've always been able to bull shit."

"If it's any consolation, I think the guys lying about something. His eyes flickered for a moment the second the saw the paper. His face was like stone, but his eyes gave him away."

"It's easier when you just assume everyone's lying about something."

"This is true, but I prefer to have a smidge of hope in humanity."

"Your loss. Now how 'bout we head on over to ye old Jorgeson General Store. The place looks hoppin'."

"Ye old? Hoppin'? History definitely wasn't your thing. Your vocabulary would be offensive to people in any time period."

"Let's just go."

Elle and Dean crossed the deserted street before they walked into "ye old" Jorgeson General Store. A bell rang as they walked through the door and into the establishment. It wasn't a very big store, but there was a man behind the counter, a woman stocking shelves, and a few customers near the jam section. Dean walked down an aisle and awkwardly stopped in front of the feminine product shelves before he told Elle his game plan.

"I would say that you should take the woman and I'd take the guy or vice versa; but after what happened back there with Scotty I'm not risking it," Dean whispered to his sister.

"Can we just get this over with?"

Dean nodded with his head toward the man behind the counter. Elle sighed before she walked with Dean over to the guy. This just didn't seem right. Sammy should be here right now, but nonetheless, they engaged the man in a conversation. Dean introduced himself as John again and Elle as Paige, to which she responded with a wave. This guy didn't seem to catch the Led Zeppelin reference because they were greeted with a "How can I help ya?" Dean handed the man the pictures of Vince and Holly Parker before asking if he had seen them. The guy shook his head.

"Maybe they stopped for gas or something?" Dean asked.

"No, sorry," the man named Harley responded.

"Maybe the lady over there saw them," Elle said nodding toward the woman who just finished stocking the shelves.

"I—uh—I can ask her. Stacy, c'mon over here. You ever seen these two?"

The man handed Stacy the pictures to which she only briefly glanced at before she shook her head.

"No, I can't say that I've ever seen them. We don't get many people blowing through here, so I'd remember if they did," Stacy said.

"You say they were friends of yours?" Harley asked.

"That's right," Dean responded.

"We go way back with them," Elle finally spoke. "There's just been a hole in our hearts this past year not knowing what happened to them. We're looking for any information, no matter how trivial and unimportant it seems."

Dean nodded in Elle's direction, which basically told her that she had done all right—but to be honest, Elle just thought of what Sam would have said in this situation and put her own spin on it. Elle didn't really pay attention to what else Dean was saying, because her thoughts were too focused on Sam. She knew that he would be all right—but she still couldn't help but worry about him and yet Dean was going on as if nothing had happened. That bothered her—but now wasn't the time for her to get into things with Dean…again. Not after they were finally on the mend with their relationship and because she didn't want to dump on him when Sam just did. Damnit! Why couldn't she just put herself first? Sometimes she needed to be more selfish, but this definitely wasn't one of those moments. Suddenly, a teenage girl came from upstairs carrying some boxes down into the store. The girl immediately recognized the man—because of his tattoo. Dean stayed focused on Emily, whose name Elle could tell from the girl's necklace. Then Elle looked to Harley and Stacy—who made eye contact. Something fishy was going on, because all of a sudden, they seemed to remember the couple at Emily's insistence. Harley tried to save face.

"You—know, they mustn't have been here more than ten minutes or so. Can't always remember all the folks you run into."

"Do you remember anything else?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"I—I—uh told 'em how to get back to the interstate and they left town."

"You wouldn't be able to point us in that direction, could you?"

"Sure."

Dean thanked the man before he and Elle walked back outside. They didn't say anything until they got back to the Impala. Out of habit, Elle went to the backseat. Dean turned around and gave her an odd look before nodding toward the empty front seat. Elle groaned before she climbed over the seat and slid into Sam's former spot.

"Something's definitely going on here," Dean grumbled.

"But the question still remains: what is going on," Elle added.

"Maybe we'll get lucky on the interstate."

"Define, lucky."

"You and I have two totally different definitions of that word, little sister."

"Ew."

Dean smirked at his sister which caused her to roll her eyes. He was trying his best to keep things going snarky back and forth between them to distract her from Sam's absence. He remembered how hard it was for her when he left last time. She didn't really share anything personal with him for almost a month. He knew that she beat herself up over that night—he didn't want her to go to that place again. He watched as Elle sighed, put her feet up on the seat, and played with the braid in her hair. He was about to crack another joke at her when the EMF meter began to beep from the backseat. Elle leaned over the backseat and grabbed Dean's bag which she pulled the EMF meter out of and looked at it going crazy.

"We should probably pull over," Dean said.

"You think?" Elle said sarcastically.

"No, I know."

Elle shook her head at her brother as he pulled the car over to the side of the road in front of an orchard. Dean was the first to get out of the car after he had snatched the EMF meter from his sister's hands. Elle quickly grabbed an old baggy sweatshirt and her bag from the backseat before she followed after Dean. She pulled the sweatshirt over her head as she walked—nearly running into a tree from which Dean saved her. They went further into the orchard, following where the EMF meter led them.

"Looks like we're following the yellow brick road," Dean said.

"Sometimes you say things that don't make sense," Elle retorted.

"Well it must be a family trait because you do it too, sweetheart."

"I do not."

"Do too."

"Do. Not."

"Do. Too."

"Do. Not."

"You might just want to give up now because I can go at this for a while."

"You're annoying."

"It's part of the job description."

Elle stomped ahead of Dean walking over the fallen leaves which crunched beneath her boots. She could hear Dean laughing behind her as she defensively folded her arms across her chest. She squinted her eyes at the sun—before she sneezed three times. It was like she was allergic to the freaking sun. She often sneezed every freaking time she went outside. She looked up at the sun as her eyes watered when her eyes caught glimpse of a horrendous looking scarecrow which made her no longer have to sneeze. She examined it for a moment. It was so not the little cute ones that you see in an old lady's garden which attract more crows than it scares away.

"Whoa. What the hell happened to you, buddy?" Elle asked.

"Dude, he's fugly," Dean commented as he caught up to Elle.

"That's one word for it."

Dean poked at the bottom of the fugly scarecrow before he noticed the sickle in the thing's hand. Elle muttered something about it being creepy when Dean noticed a design on its arm. He wasn't tall enough to get a good look at it. He looked at his sister, knowing that she would probably collapse under his weight. Elle wasn't in the proper frame of mind to accurately get him the information he needed—so lifting her up wasn't really an option. Thankfully, someone had conveniently left an old ladder leaning up against a nearby tree.

"Elle, go grab that ladder," Dean said.

"But it's taller than I am," Elle groaned.

"So?"

"That makes it awkward to carry. If Sam were here…"

"Sam's not here. So just go get that friggin' ladder."

"Since you asked so nicely," Elle responded bitterly.

Elle groaned as she walked across the leaves to where the ladder stood. She grabbed hold of it and dragged it across the ground. Dean shook his head at her before she dropped the ladder at his feet. Any closer and she would have literally dropped it on his foot. Elle backed away and leaned against a tree with her arms folded across her chest as Dean set the ladder up and crawled up to get a better glance. Dean noticed that the scarecrow had a tattoo of the same design as Vince.

"Nice tat," Dean said shaking his head.

"Excuse me?" Elle hissed crossing her arms tighter around her chest—which didn't do help.

"Tat—not tits. And you think I'm the perverted one. Anyway, this thing's got the same tat that Vince had."

"Because that's not creepy at all."

"C'mon, it's just your average creep."

"Better not let that thing hear you. It'll probably get offended."

"I ain't apologizing to something this fugly."

"He doesn't mean it, buddy."

"Let's go before I get this thing for a brother-in-law."

"That's so not happening. If and I mean if a big, huge, fat if I ever marry someone—it will be more of the human variety."

"If you say so. Now, let's get back into town and get down to the bottom of this."

So, Elle and Dean went back to the car and drove back into Burkitsville. Baby was running low on gas, so Dean stopped at the gas station to fill 'er up. Emily, from earlier at the store, came outside to pump the gas—which surprised Dean. Elle remained inside the car, eavesdropping on bits and pieces of Dean and Emily's conversation. Apparently, she lost her parents in a car accident when she was thirteen and then came to Burkitsville to live with her aunt and uncle. Something that Emily said caught Elle's interest though—the towns around Burkitsville had people losing their homes, jobs, farms and yet little ol' Burkitsville was thriving. Dean then asked Emily about scarecrow which the girl agreed was quite creepy. The other interesting tidbit Elle picked up was that there was a couple in town that had car troubles. When Dean got back inside he attempted to tell Elle what he just found out.

"Emily said…" Dean started.

"I have ears Dean," Elle responded. "I heard everything she said to you."

"So you heard about…"

"How Burkitsville is "blessed"? Yes."

"And…"

"The couple that's having car troubles."

"What about the fact that the couple's at Scotty's as we speak."

"You didn't talk about that—so how could I hear it?"

"Ha! I knew something you didn't. Now, I feel like a nice slice of pie."

"Only if you're paying."

"Sure make me do all the hard work."

"It's part of the job description," Elle retorted using his own words against him.

Dean shook his head at Elle's response before he put the Impala into drive and drove it about a block down the street and parked outside of Scotty's Café. As they walked inside, Scotty was serving the couple some apple pie with apples that the town was famous for growing. He told them it was on the house but when Scotty caught sight of Elle and Dean, his demeanor changed to less than friendly; but Dean asked for a cup of coffee black and Elle piped in for some hot apple cider. Scotty rather reluctantly went to the back to get them their order as Elle and Dean sat down at a table next to the couple.

"How're ya doin?" Dean asked. "Just passing through?"

"A couple's road trip," the girl said with a smile as she reached for the guy's hand.

"Hm, yeah, us too."

"You two are cute together," the girl stated.

"Oh ew. We're not a couple. He's my idiot brother who apparently doesn't listen," Elle groaned.

"Idiot half-brother," Dean added as Scotty came walking back to refill the couples' mugs of cider which caused Elle to roll her eyes.

"I'm sure these people want to eat in peace," Scotty said reprimanding Dean.

"Just a little friendly conversation," Dean said holding his hands up defensively. "Oh, and that coffee, too, man. Thanks."

"And my cider…please!" Elle added.

Scotty walked away with an agitated look on his face.

"So, what brings you two, lovebirds, to town?" Dean asked.

"We just stopped for some gas and uh—the guy at the gas station saved our lives," the girl said.

"Is that right?"

"Yeah, man, he noticed that one of our brake lines was leaking. We had no idea. He was fixing it for us," the man responded.

"How nice of him," Elle said, through gritted teeth. "People around here are just so…"

"Friendly," Dean finished.

"Don't we know it," the man said.

"So, how long 'til you're up and runnin'?"

"Sundown."

"Not suspicious at all," Elle muttered which Dean responded by kicking her shin under the table. "Damn you, Dean."

"Sundown you say?" Dean pondered for a second. "Really? To fix a brake line? I mean, I know a thing or two about cars. I could probably have you up and running in an hour. I won't charge you anything. Besides, my sister here who knows nothin' 'bout cars could have it fixed faster."

"It's true…I know how to put the gas in and check the oil. Beyond that I'm basically useless."

"You know, thanks, that means a lot—but I'd rather we have a mechanic do it," the woman responded.

"Sure, I understand," Dean said. "You know, it's just that these roads. They're not real safe at night."

"Nice transition," Elle muttered to herself.

"I'm sorry?" the woman spluttered.

"What my idiot, paranoid, and rude brother means to say is that there's a stretch of road around here infamous for disappearances. We lost our friends and we just don't want to see the same happen to you."

"I know it sounds strange, but uh—you might be in danger. The disappearances are always couples," Dean added.

"Look man, we're trying to eat. Okay?" the now annoyed man growled.

Dean reluctantly gave up before he drummed his fingers on the table in frustration. Elle looked over at the couple who appeared to be worriedly talking in hushed tones. She shook her head—looks like she wasn't the only one off her game. Elle looked at Dean who appeared to be mulling over what he could do next.

"It's moments like these when we need Sammy," Elle said.

"Why didn't you do anything?" Dean asked.

"Because I was too busy trying to make you look less creepy. It's not exactly an easy job, you know."

"Sammy woulda given them his puppy dog look and they'd just buy right into it."

"I thought we weren't going to talk about You-Know-Who anymore."

Elle could see that Dean was about to respond when the local Sheriff walked up beside their table. Good god, now they were in trouble. Scotty probably called the guy when he went into the back. Dean looked at the guy.

"Can we help you, Sheriff?" Dean asked.

"I'd like a word, please." The sheriff said.

"C'mon, I'm already having a bad day."

"You know what would make it worse?"

The Sheriff leaned in closer to Dean to which Dean responded by nodding his head slowly. Dean told Elle to grab her bag because they were going to head out. Dean was the first one out the door, but when Elle got to the door she turned around toward Scotty.

"Can we get our order to go?" Elle called.

Scotty glared at them.

"I'll take that as a no. It was a pleasure not doing business with you."

They got in the car and left little ol' Burkitsville, with the sheriff trailing them until they crossed the town line. When they got near the orchard, Dean turned down a dirt road that went through the orchard. Elle didn't need to be told what they were going to do. She knew that they were going to try and save the couple from their untimely demise. Dean parked the Impala so that it wasn't visible from the road before the two siblings got out and walked back to the trunk. Elle immediately reached for the rock salt and any guns that weren't fully loaded. Dean, somewhat surprised, followed her lead and grabbed a shotgun.

"It's gotta be something more than just a spirit," Elle commented. "I mean the annual killings. The fact that the victims are always one man and one woman. This thing has to be some sort of Pagan god."

"Makes sense. Plus the fact that they're fattenin' 'em up like a Christmas turkey."

"I thought turkey was more of a Thanksgiving thing."

"You get the point."

Elle shrugged her shoulders to which Dean responded with a playful shove. For a moment, she didn't think about the fact that Sam wasn't with them and she smiled up at her brother. He smiled back but then Dean pulled the cooler out of the car—which he had thought to pack some food in before they left Rockford. Granted, the ice was now water, but there were several beers in there. Dean tossed Elle a wet beer to which she somehow managed to catch by using her entire body. The siblings then got in the car and sipped their beers in silence. All they had to do was wait until after sundown when that couple was sure to come their direction. Sure enough, when darkness covered the area, Dean and Elle saw two figures scrambling through the orchard. Elle looked to where the scarecrow should be—but he was missing.

"Dean, I think we have a problem," Elle said pointing.

"Let's go find your boyfriend," Dean said grabbing his shotgun before he got out of the car.

The Winchesters began to run toward the couple, the sound of leaves and twigs crunching beneath their feet. It wasn't until they were running that Elle finally managed to come up with a comeback as the scarecrow, the Winchesters, and the couple ran through the orchard.

"He's not my boyfriend. If anything, he's your jilted lover whom you made fun of."

"Not the time, Elle."

Elle managed to get to the couple first and shouted for them to head back to the Impala while Dean started shooting at the creepy-ass scarecrow that was bounding toward them. The couple froze for a second at the sight until Elle pushed them forward. Dean continued to shoot at the thing. Elle yelled for Dean to start to run while Elle took several shots at the thing. They alternated between running and shooting at the thing until they finally crossed the clearing of the orchard and the scarecrow disappeared. Elle and Dean stood there beside the couple with their guns cocked and ready to shoot—just in case.

"What—what the hell was that?" the guy panted.

"You don't want to know," Elle and Dean said simultaneously.

The woman turned toward her boyfriend and began crying in his arms. With a shotgun loaded in her hands, Elle turned to look at the man who was attempting to comfort his girlfriend, despite the terror in his own eyes. The couple climbed in the backseat of the Impala. Dean and Elle got in the front and took the couple to the next town over from Burkitsville so that they could spend the night in a shady motel and call for a tow—but at least they were alive. The couple was obviously shaken as they got out of the Impala—after Dean's warning to not return to Burkitsville and to tell all their friends that the pie isn't worth it. The woman knocked on Elle's window, which she slowly rolled down.

"What about you two?" the woman asked.

"We gotta go take care of that thing before it hurts any other innocents," Elle said.

"You're going back there?" the man questioned.

"It's the family business," Dean said.

"You better get paid damn well for that kind of job."

"It's kinda hard to get paid well when people don't know what you do."

"Thank you," the woman said. "And sorry we didn't believe you."

"If I didn't know what I know—I wouldn't have believed him either," Elle teased. "He can be a creep sometimes."

"Please, take care."

"We'll certainly try."

The woman backed away from the car and into the arms of her boyfriend. They both waved at Dean and Elle as the Impala pulled out of the motel as the dawn was beginning to break. Elle could feel a shooting pain going through her wrist. It had been almost twenty-four hours since she had taken a Vicodin. She was trying to be careful, because she had heard how easy it was to become addicted to the stuff, but she still didn't want Dean to know. So she asked to pull over to a gas station so that she could use the little girls' room. After Elle cleaned her face, she took one pill from her bottle and swallowed it before she rubbed her throbbing wrist. How long was it going to hurt like this? Elle sighed before she pulled out her braid, giving her long hair a crimped style. She shook it out before she walked back to the car to find Dean talking on his phone. She got in the car before she gave Dean an odd look.

"Who are you talking to?" Elle asked.

"You-Know-Who," Dean responded.

"You're in regular contact with Voldemort? Should I be worried?"

"I still don't know who the hell that is—but I'm talking to Sammy."

"Oh."

Dean pressed a button on the phone.

"Say hello, to Elle, Sammy. You're on speaker by the way—so play nice."

"Uh—hey," Sam said awkwardly.

"Hi," Elle responded shortly. "You can go back to your regular scheduled programming now."

"I was just telling Sam about your boyfriend that tried to kill us," Dean said.

"More like your boyfriend," Elle scoffed.

"So the thing climbed off his cross?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I'm tellin' ya. Burkitsville, Indiana. Fun Town," Dean responded sarcastically.

"The thing didn't get the couple, did it?" Sam asked.

"Because Elle and I clearly aren't capable without you."

"So—they're safe then."

"Yeah. They shouldn't be going back to that town anytime soon."

"So, something's gotta be animating the thing. A spirit maybe?"

"No, it's more than a spirit. It's a god. A Pagan god, anyway."

"Elle told you that didn't she?" Sam asked.

"I don't know why you think I'm not capable of thinking of it on my own," Dean said.

"Did she?"

"Yeah."

"Exactly my point."

"Elle only pointed out the cycle killings and that the victims are always a man and a woman—both things which I was already thinking. It seems like some kind of fertility right. And besides, you should've seen the way the locals treated this couple. Fattenin' 'em up like Christmas turkey."

"I thought it was Thanksgiving turkey."

"I told you!" Elle shouted.

"Thanksgiving turkey. So kill me," Dean groaned.

"But yeah, I get what you're saying, man. Given their last meal—like sacrificial victims," Sam said.

"Yeah—I'm thinking it's gotta be a ritual sacrifice to appease some Pagan god."

"Emily did say that Burkitsville seemed blessed," Elle added.

"So this god possess the scarecrow," Sam pondered.

"And then friggin' scarecrow takes its sacrifice. And for another year the crops won't die off," Dean added.

"Do you know which god you're dealing with?"

"No, not yet."

"Well, you figure out what it is and you can figure out a way to kill it."

"Really? Why hadn't I thought of that—oh, because I already have. We're headed to a local community college. We've got an appointment with a professor since our trusty sidekick geek boy isn't around to do the research and Elle's been off her game."

"I'm the one who came up with the Pagan god," Elle snapped.

"You would've done it sooner if you weren't distracted."

"Maybe because I've been too busy dealing with you being a loser."

"Guys, if you're hinting that you need my help, just ask," Sam interrupted.

There was an awkward pause in the conversation as Elle and Dean looked to each other. Both of them silently tried to get the other to say something first. Knowing Sam's tactic, Elle raised her fist for a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors—which Dean agreed to. Although, it wasn't exactly a fair game, because Elle knew from Sam what Dean was going to pick. Dean groaned before he started.

"I'm not hinting at anything. I just want you to know—I mean, don't think…"

"Yeah, I'm sorry too," Sam sighed.

"Sam. You were right. You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life. Isn't that right, Elle?"

"I'm pleading the fifth," Elle said.

"Sammy, what's she talking about?" Dean asked.

"The Fifth Amendment says…" Sam started.

"Explain it to me like I'm five."

"She's citing the part that she can't be forced to testify against herself."

"Well, just know that I'm proud of you. You stand up to Dad and you always have. Hell—I admire that about you."

"Thanks. Hey, Dean, would you mind if I talked to Elle alone for a minute?" Sam asked.

"Go ahead. I gotta take a leak anyway," Dean said.

"He has such a way with words," Elle retorted before she took the phone and but it off speaker phone and pressed it against her ear. "What'd you need Sam?"

"I—uh—I'm sorry about what I said."

"Yeah, I heard. It's fine I guess."

"That's the thing. It's not. I guess I was just pissed. All those memories of the plans we had made came back to me and then the fact that you never came—I guess it was building up and I just snapped."

"Sam, that's not fair because I did come."

"What?"

"Stanford. I came to Stanford."

~*~ Flashback December 2004~*~

Elle's step seemed somewhat lighter as she got off the bus. She and Dean had a case only an hour from Stanford where Sammy was currently living. Being that close to him—Elle assumed that it had to be some sort of sign. She felt bad that she didn't tell Dean what she was doing—but that was her inner coward that convinced her not to tell him. Elle had stolen Sam's address out of their father's journal. She knew he had tried to be cryptic about what the address meant—but Elle had easily figured it out. Elle had debated calling her brother—but she wanted to surprise him. Be a surprise just in time for Christmas—their favorite holiday. Elle had already made his present—it was a sketch of a photo of the two of them from when they were younger.

She walked down the street where college kids were hurrying along—to prepare for final exams. She could see that they stressed people out—but honestly, final exams seemed more enjoyable than ganking ghosts. She turned down the street that would eventually lead her to Sam's place which caused Elle's heart to quicken. She hoped that he would be glad she was there. Honestly, she just hoped that she would be glad that she was there. There had been times over the past couple years without him—that Elle had felt a feeling of jealousy that he had gotten out—and the fact that he hadn't tried to really contact her. After everything they had been through—and then radio silence. But she couldn't ignore a sign like this. So, she was going to give it a chance. She owed it to herself, didn't she?

Elle finally came to the building where Sammy dwelt and she practically ran up the stairs to his place. She was about to ring the doorbell when she looked through the window. The lights were strung on the tree and Sam was with a blonde girl, kissing her underneath some mistletoe. The girl grinned before she practically ran to the tree and began to put ornaments on it. Elle slowly crept closer to the window for a better look. She watched as Sam dropped a glass ornament and how the girl looked like she adored Elle's brother. It was almost uncomfortable to watch—like it wasn't something she shouldn't be seeing. Suddenly, Elle's phone began to ring rather loudly. She quickly ducked out of view of the window.

"Shit, shit, shit," Elle muttered.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and went to silence it when she noticed that it was Dean calling. Part of her didn't want to answer it. Part of her wanted to just ring Sam's doorbell instead, but she didn't listen to that part of her. Instead, she pressed the call button to answer.

"Hey, Dean," Elle sighed.

"Elle-Belle, where the hell are you?" Dean questioned.

"I—uh—Dad had something he wanted me to do. He—uh—he said this one was just between me and him."

"When are you getting back?"

Elle slowly rose up so that only above her nose was practically pressed against the glass of the window. Her breath was fogging it up a little, but Sammy didn't seem to take notice of her. His skills must have gotten a little rusty with the new girl in his life. He was solely focused on her as they decorated the Christmas tree. He seemed happy with the girl—without his little sister around. Elle's heart sunk. He was happy without her. Was that why he never bothered to contact her? In that moment, Elle made another decision regarding the happiness she could have had.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Dean."

"Stay out of trouble until then."

"Because I'm obviously going to go looking for it."

"At least you finally admit it."

"Bye, Dean."

"Bye, Elle-Belle."

Elle hung up the phone before she slumped down to the floor and pulled her sketchbook out of her bag. She couldn't bring herself to tear it out. She debated leaving Sam a note—but she didn't. He wouldn't want to hear from her now that he was finally happy. Instead, she slipped Sam's old Stanford sweatshirt she had been wearing off and hung it on the door handle because she wouldn't be needing it anymore—it would probably only prove to be a painful memory and she already had enough of those to deal with.

~*~ End Flashback~*~

"It took me a while, but, Sam, I came. I was right outside your window. I saw how happy you were with Jess, decorating your first Christmas tree together. You broke one of the glass orbs and kinda freaked. Jess laughed at you before you picked her up. She kissed you and you couldn't get that goofy grin off your face. You didn't even notice me and—I—I thought you were doing just fine without me. That you didn't want or need me anymore. That you replaced me—had forgotten about me."

"Elle, I didn't know."

"Sam, it happened. It's over. I don't really want to talk about it—but I guess it's part of why I was pissed at you for the last year."

"Jess never replaced you, Elle. God, sometimes I think I drove Jess insane with all my Elle stories."

"Like I said, it's in the past and Dean and I have a case we gotta finish. So—bye."

"Elle…"

Elle's heart hurt as she hung up on Sam before he could say anything else. She was finally playing the selfish card against him. It was something she felt she needed to do—but why did she feel so guilty doing it? Dean got back in the car with a bag of donuts, a cup of coffee, and a cup of hot chocolate. He handed the donuts and hot chocolate to Elle before he put the car into drive. They were headed to the community college to meet with that professor.

"So what did Sammy have to say? Or is that another secret you have to keep?"

"Real nice, Dean."

"You know what I mean."

"He apologized, said some other crap, and then I hung up on him."

"Good to know we're dealing with bitchy Elle today. Just make sure she doesn't make an appearance with the professor."

"I'll just stay in the car if you're so worried."

"Elle, c'mon. I know this whole situation is a big, fat pain the ass—but we gotta move past it. We can't do what we did last time. So I say we focus on taking these sons-of-bitches down."

"Fine."

"You're not very convincing."

"Do you need my response in a cheer? I agreed to it. That's all you need."

There was an awkward silence that hung in the air. Dean simply nodded his head—going over in his mind how to best cheer her up. Maybe reminding her of something stupid she did when she was younger would get her a laugh.

"Do you remember that one time in Edina—you couldn't have been more than ten and you—"

"Dean, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but please don't. Please. I—I just want to take a nap before we get to the guy."

Elle reached behind her and grabbed her pillow from the backseat. She pressed the thing between her head and the window and shut her eyes so that Dean would think she was asleep. Although, Dean probably knew better that she was faking it—but he left her alone. He even turned his music down. He was trying, she could see that—but everything was just so complicated. Then again, that seemed to be the story of her life: complicated.

When they finally arrived at the college, Elle quietly followed Dean who led them to the front desk where they waited for the receptionist to phone the professor to confirm the meeting. Then, they followed the woman's directions to what building the guy was in where they found him waiting for them in the lobby of that building. He led them down to his office. Where Dean finally broached the subject of the Pagan theology. For the most part, Elle kept her mouth shut. Instead she listened and attempted to process the man's information—trying to read between the lines for an acceptable truth.

"I'm afraid Indiana isn't known for its Pagan worship," the professor said.

"Well, what if it was imported? You know—like the Pilgrims brought their religion over. Maybe the original settlers did the same thing. This area was settle by a lot of immigrants," Dean said.

"As was most of America," Elle retorted.

"He knows what I mean. But I'm talking like Burkitsville—where are their ancestors from?"

"Uh—northern Europe, I believe, Scandinavia," The professor said.

"What could you tell me about those Pagan gods?"

"Well, there are hundreds of Norse gods and goddesses," the professor responded.

"Like Thor?" Elle asked to which Dean gave her an odd expression. "Because a girl can't pick up a comic book every once in a while?"

"We're looking for one that might live in an orchard—not the god of Hammer time," Dean added.

They finally reached the man's office where he hauled out a giant old book and began flipping through the pages. Something that looked like the scarecrow appeared on one of the pages and Elle slammed her hand down on the page before the professor could turn to the next page.

"What's this thing?" Elle asked.

"That's not a woods, god, per se," the professor responded.

Elle then scanned the page. The Vanir were Norse gods of protection and prosperity, keeping the local settlements safe from harm. Some villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice. One male and one female. Blah, blah, blah—This particular Vanir that's energy sprung from a sacred tree…A tree? Really? A friggin' tree? Dean asked the professor if they were to torch the tree if the thing would die—but the professor seemed baffled by Dean's assumption. They then thanked the professor for his time before they headed to the Impala.

"Looks like we have a tree to find," Dean said.

"In an orchard. That's gonna go over really well," Elle retorted.

"You were always good at hide-and-seek as a kid."

"Yeah—the hiding part. The only reason I ever found you guys is because I told you that I quit and then I said I had my fingers crossed when you guys believed me and came out."

"Let's hope this tree believes you too."

Dean once again pulled on the dirt road that went through the orchard. Then they began looking for some sort of tree that looked really old. Elle got so side-tracked with looking for the tree that she didn't notice that Dean was no longer close behind her. Actually, he was nowhere around her. She then began to call for him.

"Dean? Dean? Where the hell are you? Don't you dare leave me alone with creep."

"I thought his name was John," a voice spoke from behind her.

Elle turned around to see Harley had one arm wrapped tightly around Dean's mouth and the other had a pistol pointed at him. Several other men from town, including Scotty were surrounding them. Elle groaned.

"Gentlemen, how can I help you?" Elle asked.

"You can come with us," Scotty shouted.

"And why would I willingly subject myself to your company?"

"You don't want us to shoot 'im, you'll come with us," Harley said.

"You're not gonna shoot him. You need him for your sacrifice," Elle retorted.

"You really want to take that risk?"

"If you were gonna shoot him you would've already done it. That or you'd shoot him in the foot because he could still—"

Elle didn't get to finish her sentence because she was knocked along the back of the head causing her to black out on the ground. When Elle finally awoke, she found herself in a dark, cold room. Why couldn't the bad guys ever take their hostages to a nice five star hotel? Why did the places always have to be dark and creepy. Elle's wrists were bound once again—which caused pain to go shooting up her arm from her wrist. She really needed some pain medication for this—but she couldn't reach it. Elle groaned.

"You awake?" Dean asked.

"I was hoping that I was still dreaming," Elle groaned.

"Nope. I think they're going to sacrifice us."

"No shit, Sherlock—but you think they'd take a little better care of us. I mean they could have at least taken the leaves out of my hair. They're going to bother me and I can't get them out."

"Because leaves are obviously our biggest problem."

The sound of the cellar door opening came from up above which spilled a little light into the place. Elle was once again prepared for the first—but both she and Dean were surprised when it was Emily, from the store and gas station, who came to meet them. The only words the girl could splutter were words of apology for the actions of the people she trusted the most. Emily moved to Dean first and with her pocket knife began to saw at the ropes around his wrist. After almost several minutes of sawing at the rope he was finally free. They both moved over to help Elle when there came a pounding from overhead.

"Emily! What do you think you're doing?" Stacy asked.

"I'm saving these people. This isn't right what you're doing to them," Emily explained.

"Sweetie, it's for the common good."

"I won't let you do this anymore. It stops now. If you're going to kill them, then you have to kill me too."

"If that's how it has to be," the sheriff said.

"She doesn't mean it!" Harley hissed. "She doesn't know what she's saying."

"She knows too much and has shown she can't be trusted," Scotty said.

"She's just a girl."

"We'll let 'im pick which girl he wants. Maybe if he takes 'em both we'll be blessed even more. If not—one of them will get to live…for now. For the common good."

"The common good," everyone but Harley muttered.

Dean didn't have a chance to attempt to overpower them as all the men there had guns pointed at them. Instead, the sheriff rebound Dean's wrists before he bound Emily too. Then, they led them like lambs to slaughter back out into the orchard. With every movement she attempted to free herself, it only made the pain worse. Elle stopped struggling to conserve her energy and to listen in on Emily and Dean's conversation.

"I can't believe they're doing this," Emily whispered

"Well, you better start believing it, cause Elle and I are going to need your help," Dean said somewhat calmly.

"I'm not sure what I can do from here."

"I need you to think. We can destroy this scarecrow but we gotta find the tree it's rooted to."

"What tree?"

"It will be a really old tree," Elle said. "A tree that the locals revere."

"Like it was sacred," Dean added. "Can you think of one like that?"

"There was this one apple tree. The immigrants brought it over with them. They call it the First Tree," Emily responded.

"Do you know where it is?" Elle asked.

"Only that it's in the oldest section of the orchard."

"Which is where?"

"No idea."

Great. A tree they still had no idea where it was. Once they stopped, the townspeople tied them up tightly to the trees. Elle was tied to Dean's right and Emily was tied on Dean's left. The scene felt almost like something biblical—not that Elle had read much into the stuff, but it wasn't hard to notice the somewhat mirroring symbolism. They sat there tied up in silence and Elle hold back the tears—but it wasn't because she was scared it was because of the physical pain in her wrist. She also didn't want to look as weak as she felt in front of these terrible people.

"How many people have you killed, Sheriff?" Dean asked. "How much blood is on your hands?"

"We don't kill them," the sheriff responded.

"No, but you sure clean up his mess. I mean, how many cars have you hidden, clothes have you buried?"

Emily pleaded with her aunt and uncle to let them go. Harley looked about ready to give in, but Scotty and sheriff came over to make sure that he didn't double-cross them. They were going to follow through with the plan. The foursome then walked away from them leaving Elle, Dean, and Emily alone.

"I hope your apple pie is freakin' worth it!" Dean shouted.

"Only you would be thinking about pie at a time like this," Elle muttered.

"So what's the plan?" Emily asked.

"I'm workin' on it," Dean groaned.

"Which is code for he has nothing," Elle retorted.

"I do too have something."

What must have been a couple hours passed—they were still alive, but they were still tied to the trees. The throbbing seemed to intensify. Ashamedly, the pain was too much and tears began to slip down her cheeks. She tried not to make any noise—so that Dean wouldn't notice.

"Is he moving yet?" Dean asked.

"I can't see," Emily responded.

"But I do," Elle said nervously. "Dean do you see that?"

Elle could see a large dark figure coming toward her. She screamed which caused Emily to scream as well. Elle tried to fight her way away from the tree—but it was no use with her wrist. Dean too tried to get away to save his sister.

"You stay away from my sister, you bastard!" Dean shouted.

"It's good to see you too, Dean," Sam said coming into the light.

Sam began to untie Elle from the tree.

"Sammy! I take back everything I said. I'm so happy to see you….hang on a minute, how'd you get here?" Dean shouted.

"He's saving us—does it really matter?" Elle questioned once her wrists were finally free and she rubbed her one in pain.

"Yes."

"I—uh—I stole a car," Sam said sheepishly as he untied Dean.

"That's my boy! And keep an eye on that scarecrow. He could come alive at any minute."

"What scarecrow?"

Dean stood up and looked at a now empty post as Sam moved to untie Emily.

"Damnit, Elle, looks like your boyfriend has awoken."

"Would you stop calling him that?" Elle hissed.

The four began running toward the highway, weaving in and out between the trees.

"Did the professor tell you how we can kill this thing?" Sam asked—ignoring the previous exchange.

"Its power is tied to the First Tree," Elle said.

"So let's find this sacred tree and burn it."

"Not tonight. Right now we just need to shag ass before Leather Face catches up," Dean said.

They continued to run until they were stumbled across the clearing where the townspeople happened to be waiting—just in case they tried to make an escape. Unintentionally, Elle moved close to Sam—using his size to shield her. He looked to his little sister as she stood close to him, but he didn't say anything. Emily once again begged her aunt and uncle to let them go—they were innocent in all this. Then unexpectedly, the Scarecrow made his appearance, piercing Harley in the stomach with his sickle. Elle instinctively reached to hold onto Sam's arm as the Scarecrow captured Stacy. Emily ran into Dean's arms as the Scarecrow dragged away her aunt and uncle while the townspeople ran away screaming. The shock of fear caused Elle's pain in her wrist to subside momentarily as she buried her face in Sam's jacket. After a moment just standing there in the darkness, Dean began to lead the small group back to the Impala. Emily stayed close to Dean as they walked. Elle had released Sam—but she walked almost in step with him. In the moonlight she kept looking over to him which made him chuckle.

"What?" Sam chuckled.

"Why did you come?" Elle asked.

"You hung up on me," Sam responded.

"It's not the first time I've done it."

"No—but it got me thinking that you and Dean are all I have left and that maybe I should take a page from your book on self-sacrifice."

"It's not all it's cracked up to be."

"No, but I'm giving it a try—which means that when the time comes, I want you to try doing something for you."

"I already did—I hung up on you."

"I'm serious, Elle. Something that could be life-altering. I want you to promise me that you'll take that risk for you—not anyone else."

"That's something too big to promise."

"Then promise me that you'll think about it."

The next morning, the Winchesters went out with Emily to find the First Tree and they burned that sucker down. As Dean so eloquently put it—Elle's boyfriend shouldn't be killing anyone any time soon, do which Elle responded by smacking her brother in the arm. After they watched the tree burn down to nothing but a crisp, Emily asked to be dropped off at the bus station. She hugged each of the Winchesters before she boarded her bus headed to Boston. Sam, Elle, and Dean waved as the bus took off before they walked back to the Impala. Elle got into the backseat of the car—and she was pretty sure Sam and Dean didn't know she was listening in on them as she dug in her bag for her Vicodin. She had taken one last night after the "trauma" but took another pill to dull the current pain. She needed to be careful not to take them too close to each other—but she had a feeling after what happened last night, she was going to be taking the pills regularly for a few days.

"So, need to be dropped off somewhere or are you gonna steal another car?" Dean asked.

"Nah—I think you're stuck with me," Sam said.

"What made you change your mind?"

"Nothing—I still wanna find Dad and you're still a pain in the ass. But Jess and Mom—they're both gone. And Elle—I don't want to be just another Dad to her. She's had to go through a lot because of him."

"We all have."

"Yeah, but it's different with her—and you know it."

"I guess."

"Speaking of Dad—only God knows where he is. But it's the three of us. You, me, and Elle. We're all that's left and if we're gonna see this thing through—well, we better do it together."

Elle couldn't take any more of the sappiness; she poked her head out the window.

"Somebody's been watching too many chick flicks," Elle said.

"She's right," Dean said. "Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful."

Dean moved to jump into Sam's arms but Sam pushed him away. The three Winchesters laughed as Sam and Dean got into the car. The car doors closed and Dean was still teasing Sam.

"You two should be kissing my ass right now, you guys would have been dead meat without me," Sam said shaking his head.

"In my defense, I might have survived," Elle retorted.

"Yeah—might."

"Shut your mouth."

"Looks like things are back to normal," Dean chuckled.

For now, Elle thought. But she didn't want to ruin the moment. Instead, the cuddled up with her pillow and Tigger and fell asleep as they hit the open road: destination unknown.


	13. Faith

All the clues from their recent case had led the Winchesters to a small town in Oklahoma. They had rolled into town earlier that morning after Dean had spotted an awful lot of child abductions for a town. So far there had been half-a-dozen in the past month—too many for a small town that was nothing more than a pin-prick on a map. Whatever this thing was, it was acting at a quicker pace than usual. Knowing that they needed to act fast before this thing struck again—Elle, Sam, and Dean for once split-up to cover more ground. They each took a family of a child that had disappeared. Elle had taken the family of Beth Brown, the second child to disappear. The little girl's parents were very distraught when Elle talked to them about their daughter. Elle posed as a reporter for a college newspaper, trying to shed more light on the disappearances of the children. From what Elle gathered from the parents, Beth was seven and a very spoiled little girl—having been the only child until about a year ago. Apparently, the girl didn't take it too well that she wasn't the center of her parents' universes. Of course—most of this Elle had to gather from the subtext and nuances of the conversation—because what parent would want to look poorly on their missing child? But the mother was practically beside herself with grief. The night Beth disappeared, she had gone to her mother for a glass of water, but her mother told Beth she was big enough to get one on her own. The mother heard Beth's footsteps go down the stairs—but they never came back up. Elle's heart ached with these parents. She could never really imagine herself as a parent—at least not in this life, in this world. Too much could go wrong, especially with the name Winchester branded to her.

When Elle was done talking with the family, she headed over to the local library to meet up with her brothers and compare stories. Just as Elle walked up the steps of the building, the Impala pulled into the parking lot. She waited for Dean to jog to meet her before they went inside. The place looked rather abandoned which was just the way they liked it. It made things easier to work and people were less suspicious. Elle and Dean went to the most secluded part of the library—as usual. To their surprise, Sam was already there with a couple of books on the table. He looked up and nodded at his siblings as they sat down across from him at the table. They then compared notes. It seemed like all the children who had vanished were little snot-nosed kids who had a naughty streak to them. After they had figured that much out, Elle walked through the stacks to find some sort of book that might help them. Also, she needed to get away from her brothers so that she could take a Vicodin. She had grown very dependent on the substance recently, but she didn't want to bother her brothers about it. They were both already dealing with a lot as it was and Elle didn't want to be any more of a burden on them than she already was. Elle popped one of the pills and slowly leaned back against the bookshelves. She only had three more pills left. She was going to need to get more and soon. Elle pretended to pull out random books and look through them, but she wasn't really paying much attention to them. Hell, she was in the completely wrong section by this point. Well, unless Little House on the Prairie had changed since she had read it last in third grade. Elle continued to meander through the shelves when the song "Wannabe" by the Spice Girls began to play in her head for some reason. As much as Elle hated to admit it, the song was catchy, despite the Winchesters' obvious hate for it. Once Dean had caught her listening to the song on a CD she had stolen in the motel room and he "accidentally" broke it. Elle shook her head at this memory and looked around to make sure that Dean wasn't anywhere near her before she began to sing the song to herself and dance through the aisles. It even got so bad that she was doing the shopping cart dance move when Sam poked his head around the corner.

"If you wannabe my lover…" Elle sang.

"What exactly are you doing?" Sam asked.

"Shopping…" Elle said slowly. "…for books?"

"On second thought, I don't really want to know."

"That really is for the best."

"When you're done doing whatever it is you're doing—you might give Dean and I a hand."

"I'll consider it."

Sam shook his head and disappeared back behind the shelves. Elle sighed before she absently rubbed her wrist. She then moved to a different section of the library and began looking through the books. She found herself flipping through an old English/Irish book of legends and myths. On one of the pages was something rather hideous looking, but it was the rhyme that caught her. Rawhead and Bloody Bones/Steals naughty children from their homes/Takes them to his dirty den/And they are never seen again. This had to be it. She closed the book and walked back to where her brothers sat looking through the public records.

"Rawhead," Elle said as she plopped the book onto the table the boys were working at.

"That's not a very nice thing to call, Sammy," Dean retorted.

"If I was going to call anyone that—it would be you, Bloody Bones. Now read."

Dean looked at his sister for a moment before he looked down at the book. Elle then reached for her bag and began to dig through it.

"A rawhead is a type of boogeyman that lurks in basements and preys upon naughty children…blah blah blah…and they're ugly sons-of-bitches," Dean said reading some and paraphrasing some.

"Does it say anything about how to kill it?" Sam asked.

"Nope, but I bet that Dad's journal does."

"Already on it," Elle said.

Elle pulled the journal out of her bag as Dean made a comment that he wondered where the journal had gone to. The youngest Winchester sibling thumbed through the journal as Sam read over her shoulder. She scanned the pages until Sam told her to go back to a torn page in the journal. She wouldn't have given the half-page much thought before, but there was some Yoda scrawling about an 'awhead. Elle smiled up at Sam before looked at the information Dad had about the 'awheads. While the information Elle had found in the library book had been torn out, thankfully how to get rid of the sucker was still intact. But apparently, the thing's lair was tricky to track down. It was easier to find him in the act.

"Got it," Elle said. "We just need to electrocute him."

"Extra crispy, just how I like it," Dean commented with a grin.

"But now to figure out who's next."

"And we gotta be quick," Sam said. "The things gonna move soon."

"So what do we do? Go to the local grade school and ask if they have any little shits enrolled?" Elle scoffed.

"Something like that," Dean said with a shrug.

"Or we could just go to the school and watch the kids ourselves," Sam suggested.

"Because pedophile is gonna look so good on our rap sheets," Elle retorted.

"Not what I was thinking. There are less creepy ways to get into a school."

True to Sam's words—there were less creepy ways. She played the role of a college student interested in teaching and wishing to observe last minute to get her college credit while Sam offered to tutor kids and Dean was on playground duty. Elle was in and out of classrooms trying to find out which kids were the biggest problems. Teachers were quick to divulge which kids were the hardest to work with. By the end of the day, Elle had a list of a half-a-dozen potential kids that could be potential victims. She and Sam practically had to drag Dean away from the playground—he was enjoying his "job" a little too much. When the Winchesters reconvened in the car all three of their lists had two kids in common and thankfully, those children lived only blocks apart. They needed to stop this thing before it got them to its lair.

The Winchesters sat parked a few houses down from one of the kids in the Impala. Elle lay on backseat cuddled-up with her pillow. She was playing a Gamboy Advance SP. she had snitched from the lost and found at the school. The only game with the console was a Pokémon game—so she was trying to catch them all. Sam and Dean shook their heads listening to the awkward sound effects Elle made while playing the game. Elle was about to catch a Bulbasoar when she got a whiff of something awful smelling. She instantly bolted up-right and covered her nose and mouth with her hands. Sam sat there trying to hide a grin on his face so with one hand, Elle smacked his shoulder.

"Oh god—you're toxic," Elle groaned. "I need some air. I'll go check on the other house while you two air the car out. It better not smell like shit when I get back."

Elle began to walk slowly away from the Impala toward the other little kid's house. She looked back toward them before she felt in her pocket for the pill bottle. The Vicodin was slowly beginning to lose its effect—at least for a long period of time. She shook out her injured wrist which only made it hurt worse. She needed some immediate relief. She popped the bottle out of her pocket and bit one of the tablets in half—taking only half. She knew that it wasn't going to last long at all, but she needed to be on top of things tonight. She stopped in front of the kid's house and looked at it. Nothing looked suspicious. Then her phone vibrated in her back pocket so she pulled it out.

Sam: Elle it's here.

Elle's eyes widened as she quickly turned on her heel and began sprinting back toward her brothers.

Dean: Get ur lil ass back.

Dean: Where r u?

Dean: Goddamnit answer ur phone.

When Elle finally arrived back at the Impala, she was out of breath and leaned heavily against the car. Dean did not look happy and Sam looked hesitant to say anything. She wasn't sure that she wanted to question why they didn't go after the thing without her. But now it appeared that two kids were missing and the parents had heard something downstairs because the police sirens were in the distance coming closer.

"Damnit, Elle! We lost him!" Dean hissed.

"I'm sorry, I got back as fast as I could," Elle hissed back. "Hence the sweating and heavy breathing."

"Well now we lost the thing and we don't know where he takes the friggin' kids. This was our plan and you shot it to hell!"

"I said I'm sorry!"

"Well sorry isn't going to keep those kids alive, now is it?"

Elle glared angrily at Dean. She did feel guilty about that—but honestly, they didn't need her to finish a job. She climbed into the backseat of the Impala and pulled out her flashlight and a map of the city. She then grabbed a permanent marker and made dots where each child had been abducted. She went back and forth from pointing her flashlight at the addresses of the missing kids to finding the address on the map. She didn't even notice Sam leaning on the car, watching her.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked.

"Just leave me alone and let me think!" Elle snapped before she realized that it was Sam. "Sorry," she apologized. "I've seen this done on those procedural crime shows. I just thought that maybe it would help here."

"How?" Dean asked leaning through the window.

"Well, we know that kids were taken from each of these houses. We also know that this thing can't go very far without being noticed—but he needs a secluded run-down area to lay claim to. A place where people will leave him be. A place central to all the crimes. That leaves…this area right here."

Elle circled an old run-down, crime infested part of town with blue Sharpie.

"This is where we'll find him."

"You'd better be right about this," Dean muttered.

"I know."

Sam and Dean piled into their respective seats in the Impala as Elle went over her theory again—checking to make sure that everything made sense and it made complete sense to her. The rawhead had to be somewhere in that neighborhood. She just hoped Dean didn't complain that the area was too big to check. When they got to the neighborhood, Elle made Dean turn his stereo off and roll down all the windows. The Winchesters were completely silent listening for the cries and screams of children coming from a place without a light. Sam was the first one to notice the faint sound of crying and they drove until the sound began to grown a little louder and louder. They were in front of a disheveled house when Elle got a gut feeling about the place.

"Stop! They're in there, I can just feel it," Elle said.

Dean pulled the Impala into park and they got out of the car. They went to the trunk and pulled Tasers out, one for each of them. Elle shut the trunk before she and Sam followed behind Dean who had kicked down the door. Elle shuddered and wanted to gag at the smell of the place. This was definitely the place—it reeked of old blood and rotting flesh. The sound of footsteps scurrying stopped them for a moment. Sam mentioned something about the lore talking about basements before Dean nodded his head. Dean began opening doors until he found one that led to a staircase that went down. He nodded toward Sam and Elle to follow behind him. Dean slowly walked down the stairs, shining his flashlight around the area. He stopped in front of a closet and motioned for one of his siblings to open it while he held the flashlight. Elle hesitated for a moment, so Sam reached out and opened the closet door. Inside, two children gasped and backed away.

"It's okay, we're here to help you," Elle whispered as she got down to their level.

"Is it still here?" Sam asked.

"Elle, get 'em out of here," Dean said.

"Sweetie, grab your brother's hand and hold onto mine with your other," Elle said as she was on her haunches, level with the kids.

The little girl immediately took hold of Elle's hand, even before grabbing her brother's hand. It wasn't the girl who had been a pain in the ass at school earlier. It was her brother, but the Rawhead must've taken two for the price of one. Although, right now, it didn't really matter; Elle just needed to get the kids out of the house safely. Elle pulled the little girl behind her, but something kept them from going any farther. It was the boy, he refused to move. It was like he was frozen. Elle looked between Sam and Dean for some help.

"You get the boy—I've got the son-of-a-bitch," Dean said.

Sam nodded his head and scooped the boy up in his arms before tossing Dean his Taser. Elle picked the girl up in her arms and took off up the stairs first. She and the little girl were almost to the top of the stairs when something went wrong. She later found out that the Rawhead had yanked on Sam's foot from underneath the stairs—but the only thing Elle heard was Sam go crashing onto the stairs. This freaked the boy out because he practically flew out of Sam's arms and up the stairs. Sam yelled for Elle to get the kids out. So with the girl still in her arms, Elle led them outside to the Impala. She opened the door of the car and had the kids crawl into the backseat with her. Elle pulled the two kids close to her so that they wouldn't hear or see what was happening. She just held them as they cried softly—shielding what innocence they had left. It wasn't until Elle heard Sam scream Dean's name that she knew something was wrong. Elle told the kids to stay put before she raced back into that horrid house. She quickly ran through the house and to the stairs that went to the basement. She looked down the stairs to see Dean convulsing in a corner. She practically flew down the stairs to him.

"Dean!"

But before she could get to him, Sam wrapped his arms tightly around her—not letting her go. She fought to get out of her brother's grip, but it was no use.

"Let me go," Elle hissed. "Dean!"

"We could do more harm than good," Sam responded. "We gotta let it finish before we move him."

Elle looked around for the Rawhead, but all she saw was a pile of silver crap. That must've been it. But her eyes, which were beginning to mist-up, went back to Dean who had finished convulsing but was unconscious. Sam then released Elle before he flung Dean over his shoulder in a fireman's hold. Elle wasn't sure what to do. She numbly followed behind him. When they got to the car, Sam had the two kids crawl in the front seat while Elle sat in the back with Dean's head on her lap. Sam sped the car to the nearest hospital while Elle sat stroking Dean's face gently while singing the song he always sang to her when she was sick or hurt: Hey, Jude.

"'Hey Jude, don't make it bad/Take a sad song and make it better/Remember to let her into your heart/Then you can start to make it better…"

By the time they reached the hospital, she wasn't sure which verses or how many times she had sung the song. Sam got out of the car before Elle helped get Dean out of the car by pushing him from behind and into Sam's arms. Elle watched as Sam ran into the E.R. shouting that he needed a doctor and everything just seemed to go in slow motion for Elle. She vaguely remembered watching the children rush behind Sam into the emergency room. Somehow she made her way inside where Sam was pacing the waiting room. When he saw Elle, he rushed to her and enveloped her in a hug. Sam held his sister close until one of the receptionists asked Sam to talk to her for a minute about the billing. Elle wiped away the tears that stained her cheeks and found a corner and sat on the floor, holding her knees tight against the body, resting her chin on them.

After the cops had finished questioning both her and Sam—the doctor came out to talk with them. Elle slowly got up from her spot on the floor and walked toward the doctor. The guy didn't look like he had good news for them. Elle instinctively reached for Sam's hand as the doctor began to share Dean's condition with them. Apparently, the Taser had triggered a massive heart attack in Dean. Elle gasped when the doctor mentioned that—but that wasn't the worst news. Dean had only weeks left to live. Elle began to cry as she wrapped her arms around Sam. She couldn't lose Dean. She couldn't. The doctor said that he was sorry—but Dean wasn't awake to take visitors yet. Instead, they went back to the waiting room and Elle went to the corner she had occupied earlier as her thoughts centered on her oldest brother. She thought of the one time they had gone to San Diego—just the two of them. They went wading in the Pacific Ocean and Elle had pushed her brother into the ocean, fully clothed. She had actually surprised him—but he got his revenge by tackling her into the water. They both had been sopping wet messes, but it had been such a carefree day. They weren't going to get many if any of those. When the doctor finally said that Dean was awake, Elle couldn't get herself to move from her spot on the floor. Sam came to help her up, but she just shook her head.

"Elle, c'mon," Sam said.

"I can't go in there," Elle whispered.

"Why?"

"Because it's my fault he's in there. If I wouldn't have gotten out of the car and taken so long we would've gotten him at the kids' house and then he wouldn't have gotten electrocuted nor had a heart attack."

"I'm sure he'll want to see you."

"But I can't see him. Just—just go on without me."

"Elle."

"I just can't."

Sam shook his head before he stood up and walked away from his sister, leaving her sitting there. She just sat there in her thoughts about Dean. She remembered another time when Dean had thrown a snowball at her and she thought that it was Sam. So she pushed Sam into a pile of Christmas trees causing them to fall over like dominoes. Dean had laughed his ass off as the Christmas tree guy chewed her out; but when he was done laughing, Dean came in and saved her ass. He was always saving her ass. She wasn't sure how long she sat there, but she was still there when Sam came out from seeing Dean. He said that he had things he needed to do and that he was going to leave her with Dean. It wasn't until a nurse came over and told her that she either needed to stay in her brother's room or leave that she finally went inside. She was thankful that Dean was asleep when she got in there. Elle started on the corner of the room on the floor—hoping that Dean wouldn't notice her, but he must've known she was in there because he tried to sing.

"Hey Jude, don't be afraid…" Dean sang very off-key before he started coughing.

Elle quickly rushed over to Dean's side and grabbed the cup of water on his bedside table. She tilted the cup toward his mouth for him as trickled a little water into his mouth before she set the cup back down. She brushed Dean's hair out of his face and smiled weakly at him. When she looked at him, all she felt was guilt. It was her fault that he was like this.

"Took you long enough," Dean said weakly. "I was waiting for you to come make fun of Daytime TV with me."

"I was busy," Elle muttered.

"Busy sulking."

"Just go back to sleep. You need your rest."

"Elle…"

"Sleep. I'll be right here on this uncomfortable hospital chair."

"Promise me that you're not going to leave."

"I—I—"

"Please."

"I promise."

"The remote's right there, but I'm sure there's nothing good on."

Elle chuckled as Dean watched her until she sat down on the chair beside him. He then shut his eyes. Elle sighed. She made a promise to her brother. She had to stay there with him—she promised. Promises between her and Dean weren't made to be broken. She reached for the remote and flicked the television on. After surfing through all the channels half-a-dozen times, she finally settled on a rerun of Walker, Texas Ranger. She didn't watch it long before she fell asleep in that hospital chair. The morning of Dean's third day in the hospital, Elle sat by Dean's bedside quietly. She wasn't exactly sure what to say to him. Thankfully, he was still asleep. Her stomach rumbled, so she figured that she would go find something in the vending machines. She set her bag on Dean's bed for a moment as she dug through her bag for money and picked out several dollars. Elle didn't realize that her prescription bottle had fallen from her bag onto her brother's bed. She walked out the door to go grab some junk food from the vending machine. She got a Kit Kat bar and bag of chips for breakfast before she headed back toward Dean's room. When she got back to his room, he was standing, leaning against his bed with an angry expression on his face.

"Now when did Dr. Ellicott have time to write you this?" Dean said.

"What are you talking about?" Elle asked.

She looked at her brother who was holding her pill bottle in his hands. Something inside of her just snapped. Despite the fact that she was trying to avoid any conversations with him—she knew that this one was inevitable and a fire was lit inside her. Something of her argumentative self was rearing its ugly head as Dean continued.

"I would ask which one wrote it, but the one was kinda busy being dead and you didn't have time to see the other one."

"What are you implying, Dean?"

"How long have you been popping pills, Campbell?"

Elle cringed slightly. If Dean was using her full first name, he was more than pissed off, but Dean being pissed off only made her more pissed off.

"It's no different than you going out and drinking and getting shit-faced."

"It's a hell of a lot different. So I'm just going to hold onto these and let Sammy know to keep his eyes on you."

"I need them! It's not like I'm taking them for fun."

"And what are you taking them for?"

"It never got a chance to set properly," Elle said holding her wrist up.

"Then you shoulda said something."

"I didn't exactly have time between getting poofed to Wisconsin and then you being pissed at me. I knew that 'Hey, Dean, you're being a complete asshole right now but could we swing by the hospital because my wrist is effed up' wasn't going to work!"

"You're wrong. Sure I was pissed at you—but you're my sister and at the end of the day keeping you safe is my job no matter what the circumstances. Because that's what you do for family."

Elle felt the tears beginning to well in her eyes before Dean even finished his speech.

"I'm going to die here and I'm not gonna have you following behind me."

"I don't want you to die," Elle said as she collapsed into her brother holding on to him tightly. She could feel how weak his breathing was.

"It's a fact of life. It was bound to happen sooner or later."

"We're going to find something—I promise."

"No. I know that Sammy's gonna do everything in his power and he's not gonna listen to me. I need someone to listen to me, please Elle." Dean said coughing frequently.

"Dean—"

"Elle, please, it's what I want."

"If you're sure."

"I'm sure."

"I'll do what you want, but don't expect me to be happy about it."

"Good. First thing's first, we're busting out of this joint…after we get that wrist checked out. I mean—we might as well use the insurance while we have it."

"It's gonna hurt."

"You're damn right it's gonna hurt, but it's what I want and you just agreed to do what I want."

The process of getting her wrist set properly and put in a plaster cast was not something Elle ever wanted to relive. It hurt like hell and to top it off—when the doctor prescribed her Vicodin, Dean ripped up the script. She was just going to have to be miserable and use non-addictive drugs. Thankfully, the cast stopped before her elbow and she had gotten a black one so that Dean couldn't scribble profanity all over it. But he was one step ahead of her and bought silver Sharpies so that he could scribble male genitalia on her cast as they waited for the taxi to come pick them up to take them to Sam's motel room. She knew that this was what Dean wanted to do—to live out the rest of his life the best he could, but it didn't sit right with her. It was her fault—no matter what Sam tried to convince her of otherwise. And there was nothing she could do for her oldest brother. The guy who had been there for her, her entire life was going to be gone soon. Elle's eyes started to water as she looked to her brother, her expression obvious.

"Don't you go crying on me," Dean said before he coughed. "Otherwise I'll tickle you and we both know that no one wants that. Do you remember that one time I was tickling you and you flailed and nailed me square in the nose with your head which gave me a friggin' bloody nose."

Elle smiled weakly at her brother as the taxi to take them to motel finally showed up. She helped her brother into the car before she told the driver the motel Sam was staying at. Dean leaned heavily against her as they walked up to the motel room. They knocked on the door before they stopped for a break against the door frame as they watched Sam who was on the brink of tears. Sam was surprised to see them. He questioned about Dean signing himself out of the hospital and Dean made a joke about not wanting to die in a hospital where the nurses weren't hot. Elle shook her head as she lead Dean over to the bed and set him down before she winched slightly at a wrong movement of her arm with her cast on it. Dean must've noticed because he simply shook his head at her before he tossed her a bottle of regular ibuprofen. He commented that he knew exactly how many pills were in the bottle and that he was going to be holding onto the bottle. Elle rolled her eyes before she took a regular dose of ibuprofen and tossed the bottle back to Dean. Sam looked confused by the exchange, but he didn't question it. Instead he went on to explain that he found a specialist in Nebraska who could help Dean. Dean didn't seem to like the idea and he looked to Elle to speak up for him, but Elle chose to keep her mouth shut. She was going to follow Dean's wishes the best that she could, but she wasn't going to get in Sam's way for doing what she couldn't.

Sam let Dean take a nap and rest a bit before they got back on the road in the Impala the next morning. Dean lay on the backseat with Elle's pillow and stuffed Tigger while Elle sat in the front passenger's seat and Sam drove. Elle played her stolen Gameboy Advance SP when her arm began to itch inside her cast. She began to dig through her bag for one of her drawing pencils. Elle looked around before she managed to finagle her pencil inside her cast and began to itch her arm. It felt good.

"I wouldn't do…" Dean started.

But it was too late. Part of the pencil broke off in her cast.

"Damnit."

Dean managed a hoarse chuckle before Elle dug in her bag for her tweezers to get the pencil shard out. Thankfully, the broken part of the pencil wasn't too far in her cast and she managed to get it out. She was going to have to be more careful. Sam made a comment that the itching was only going to get worse to which she rolled her eyes. The rest of the drive to Nebraska was uneventful—although, Elle would look back at Dean from time to time and her heart would hurt—so would her wrist, but she knew that Dean was going to be stubborn about this. She was glad when the Impala pulled down a gravel road toward a big white circus tent set up in a field. She looked at Sam curiously—specialist was definitely one word for this. Elle practically pressed her face against the glass as she watched people making their way to the tent. As they drove past a sign that read The Church of Roy LeGrange: Faith Healer. Witness the Miracle, Elle hoped that Dean didn't see the sign—but that was probably too much to hope. Dean grimaced as he tried to pull himself out of the backseat and Sam moved to help, but Dean pushed him away telling him that he could do it himself. Elle was pretty sure that wasn't the only thing he was pissed about though. They slowly began to walk toward the tent, allowing Dean to set the pace.

"Man, you are a lying bastard. Thought you said we were going to see a doctor," Dean groaned.

"In his defense, he said specialist," Elle commented.

"You're supposed to be on my side," Dean groaned.

"I am. But you never made me promise to stop Sam—just that I wouldn't do anything. I've kept my promise perfectly."

"You and your friggin' loop holes."

"I prefer to think of it as a compromise."

"And you—" Dean said turning toward Sam.

"C'mon man, this guy's supposed to be the real deal," Sam argued.

"I can't believe you brought me here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent and that you let him do it."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I mean c'mon, guys, a faith healer?"

"Maybe it's time to have a little faith, Dean," Sam suggested.

"Have a little faith in me," Elle sang.

"Real funny," Dean groaned. "You know what I got faith in, though? Reality. Knowing what's really going on."

"How can you be a skeptic?" Sam questioned. "Especially with the things we see every day?"

"That's exactly why. We see them, we know they're real."

"But if you know evil's out there, how can you not believe good's out there too?"

"Because I've seen what evil does to good people."

"Elle," Sam and Dean said at the same time.

"I plead the fifth on this one," Elle commented with her hands in the air in defense. "Besides, my injured wrist makes my brain all fuzzy."

"That doesn't even make sense," Dean scoffed.

"Too bad."

As they drew closer to the tent, there was a girl standing outside who was about Elle's age. Elle just smiled at the girl and moved to go inside, but the girl must've overheard their conversation because she brought up something about God working in mysterious ways. After a little bit of Dean flirting with the girl, he introduced himself, Sam, and Elle to the girl who then introduced herself as Layla. Dean didn't get much farther in his flirting because Layla's mother approached her daughter and brought her inside the tent. Dean had a goofy grin on his face after Layla left. Only Dean could be dying and still be the same pervert, Elle thought with a sigh.

The Winchesters then entered the tent to find it full of people sitting in folding chairs with a small stage at the front. Dean muttered something under his breath before he moved to take a seat in the back when Sam yanked on his arm. Sam suggested that they sit closer to the front. Elle wasn't entirely sure what Sam was up to. He hadn't told her anything and all she knew that he figured it was something that could heal Dean. An annoyed Dean slapped at Sam's hand which still gripped his arm before he followed Sam to three chairs in an empty row behind Dean's new friend Layla. Elle moved to let Dean sit between her and Sam, but Sam said to have Dean sit on the end. What exactly was he up to? Elle rolled her eyes at Sam before she sat between her brothers when a blind man wearing sunglasses was helped onto the stage by a woman. Elle looked over at Sam who nodded his head at his sister who looked at her brother hesitantly. How was a man who couldn't even help himself supposed to help her brother?

Roy leaned against his podium before he began to speak about how his wife would read the news to him—and that it was never good. That were was always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act. Elle looked around to see the people of the crows agreeing with him. While Roy continued to talk, Elle looked to the table on stage—it was probably some sort of altar in a sense because it had an old wooden cross among other items. Elle folded her arms across her chest, but she couldn't get comfortable with the cast on her arm. Roy was talking about how God rewards the good and punishes the corrupt when she finally gave up and rested her cast on her lap. People continued to agree with what the man was saying. Roy then brought up that it was "the Lord" who healed the people. Elle wasn't completely sold on the idea of a God like Sam—but she wasn't a complete doubter like Dean. She was on the fence with the issue—as she was in many aspects of life.

"The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into the people's hearts," Roy said.

"Yeah, and into their wallets," Dean whispered to Elle which made her chuckle.

"Wish God was that good to me," Elle joked back.

"Well, I don't think we're important enough to the big guy upstairs if he even exists."

"You think so, young man?" Roy said.

Dean's eyes widened for a moment as Elle tried to stifle a laugh, before she realized that she probably shouldn't be laughing at his expense given how much time he had left to live. All of Elle's emotions seemed to contradict each other but she pushed them aside to listen to Dean mutter an apology to the man—who ended up making a blind joke which made the crowd roar with laughter.

"What's your name, son?" Roy asked.

"Dean," Dean responded hesitantly after clearing his throat.

"Dean. I want you to come up here with me."

The crowd began to clap as Dean looked over to Sam and Elle. Elle was in shock, but Sam's expression was an elated one. This was Sam's plan. Get Roy to notice Dean and then get him healed. Roy's wife, Sue Ann moved to center stage and motioned for Dean to come up. Dean looked at Elle again who simply shrugged her shoulders before he looked back to the front and shook his head and declined the offer. Sam hissed at Dean from the other side of Elle before he reached across his sister trying to push Dean out of his chair. Despite being blind, Roy noticed Dean's hesitancy.

"You've come to be healed, haven't ya?" Roy asked.

"Well, yeah, technically, but uhhh…maybe you should just pick someone else," Dean responded.

"Oh, no. I didn't pick you, Dean, the good Lord did."

The crowd began cheering louder and louder for Dean to get up there. Dean looked to Elle once more for her to help him with the situation. Elle hissed at her brother asking him what exactly she was supposed to do, but Roy continued to engage Dean.

"Come unto me ye who are weary and I will give thee rest," Roy said. "C'mon, son."

"Heal her wrist first," Dean said holding up Elle's arm with a cast on it—which made her wince.

"That's not how it works, son," Roy said.

"Get up there," Sam said excitedly.

Dean glanced toward his sister as if he were trying to get her take on the situation.

"What's the worst that can happen? It doesn't work?" Elle asked.

"If this is some bad mojo thing, I swear to God—" Dean started.

"Now's probably not the best time to be swearing."

Dean shook his head and muttered that he was going as he slowly got to his feet while the crowd cheered him on. Sue Ann came down to help Dean onto the stage. Elle looked to Sam who looked on enthusiastically. When Dean got up there, Sue Ann turned him toward the crowd and Dean waved awkwardly before he turned toward Roy. Dean and Roy exchanged a few lines of a conversation that Elle wasn't sure—but she assumed it was something sarcastic. Roy then turned to the crowd and asked for them to join him in prayer. The crowd lifted their arms up and joined hands. Elle was somewhat surprised to see Sam joining them—he even grabbed her hand and lifted it up. Sam closed his eyes but opened them to peek over at Elle, who just stood there awkwardly with one arm raised with Sam holding onto it.

"We're praying," Sam hissed.

Elle rolled her eyes at Sam before she shut her eyes. She wasn't entirely sure how to pray. No one had exactly taught her how to pray. What was she supposed to do? She opened one eye and peeked over at Sam—who appeared to be focused on his breathing and thinking. So—she supposed that she was going to do the same. She closed her eyes again and started to think about Dean. Was she supposed to ask for something? How was she supposed to know that someone was listening on the other end? But before she could question it—Roy began to speak. Elle's eyes instantly opened as she watched as Roy put one hand on Dean's shoulder and one on Dean's cheek. Then suddenly, Dean's knees began to weaken and he and brought down on them. Elle gasped but when Dean began to wobble she got out of the aisle and ran up to her older brother. So much for it being safe. Elle was at Dean's side when the crowd began clapping excitedly. She leaned over him and gently slapped at his cheeks as Sam came up and grasped Dean by his hoodie. Suddenly, Dean's eyes burst open and he started to gasp. Elle flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around him which made him groan.

"If you would've died, I would've killed you," Elle whispered.

"Give him some room to breathe, Elle," Sam chuckled as he pulled Elle back before turning the conversation to Dean. "So?"

But Dean didn't respond. Instead he seemed to stare at Roy—or behind him. Elle wasn't sure. But as Sam and Elle helped Dean to his feet the crowd began to clap even more. Dean said that he needed some air and without Sam or Elle's help he walked out of the tent; but he'd get stopped every now and then to be congratulated although Dean just brushed it off. Elle quickly ran after Dean while Sam thanked Roy first and then walked out. Elle followed Dean back to the Impala.

"Dean, are you—" Elle started.

"Just give me a minute, Elle," Dean said.

When Sam got back, he asked Dean the same question, but Dean responded a bit differently.

"I'm not going to believe it until I can see it for myself," Dean said.

He needed proof—medical proof that things were different. Sam drove them to the hospital in the small Nebraska town. He parked the car and the boys got out of the car. Elle didn't get out of the car; instead she just sat there until Dean knocked on the window. She rolled it down and looked at her brothers innocently.

"Elle-Belle, you coming?" Dean asked.

"You don't go with me to the lady doctor, not that I've ever been to one, but still, I'm not going with you to the manly one," Elle retorted.

"You do realize that we're going to a cardiologist—a heart doctor," Sam said.

"A part that you have," Dean added.

"Yeah—I know," Elle said slowly, trying to cover her momentarily lack of sense. "I just have had enough with doctors. I'll—I'll just stay in the car. Pokémon is calling my name. Can't you hear little Pikachu? 'Elle! Play with me, Elle! Play with me! We gotta catch 'em all!'"

"God, she's a freak. I'm not sure how we're related to her."

"You're the one who taught her," Sam joked.

"No, the nerdiness was you."

"Are you two going or not? Charmander and I need our alone time," Elle said.

Elle sat in the car playing Pokémon and ignoring the itching sensation coming from her cast while the boys were at the cardiologist. While she waited, a though went through her mind to go into the E.R. and say she was in a bunch of pain from her wrist—which would technically be true—and then they would prescribe her some more Vicodin. But she made Dean a promise—a promise that she had to keep. Mind over matter, right? So instead, she focused on her game. Sam was practically beaming by the time the boys got back to the car. Elle watched as Dean snatched the keys back from Sam and then slipped into the driver's side. Dean started the car after Sam got in and pulled out of the parking lot.

"So…how'd it go?" Elle asked.

"He's fine, just like I knew he'd be," Sam said.

"You gonna tell her the rest or should I?" Dean asked.

"Dean, saw a guy."

"Believe me, I understand why that would be upsetting because of you two," Elle retorted. "Was he at least attractive?"

"Not that kind of guy," Dean groaned. "An old man or something. Not to mention that it's a hell of a coincidence that a perfectly healthy guy my age dropped dead of a heart attack yesterday."

"So, what does this mean?"

"Elle, you're going with Sam to check out the heart attack guy while I visit the revered."

"No, I'm going with you," Elle said stubbornly.

"The doctor said that I'm fine. Go with Sam."

"I heard you the first time. Doesn't mean that I'm going to listen."

"No, you're gonna do as I say."

"No, I'm not."

"Dean," Sam sighed knowing exactly what Elle was doing—being over-protective of Dean. "Just let her go with you. Besides, maybe she can talk with Sue Ann about the rev."

Dean muttered under his breath but Elle got her way and went to Roy and Sue Ann's house with him. They were warmly welcomed into Roy and Sue Ann's home. They immediately recognized Dean and ushered them into the living room. They weren't seated more than five minutes when Dean elbowed Elle in the ribs. At first she pretended not to notice, but she knew that Dean was getting antsy, so she finally gave in.

"Mrs. LeGrange, you wouldn't happen to have something to drink, would you?" Elle asked sweetly.

"Of course, honey, why don't you just come into the kitchen with me," Sue Ann responded. "I'm sure your brother could use some time with the reverend."

"Yes ma'am."

Elle followed Sue Ann into the kitchen before the older woman set a plate of cookies and a glass of milk on the table. She smiled warmly at Elle before she motioned for her to sit down, which the younger woman did. Elle reached for a cookie and nibbled on it—it tasted delicious and the cool milk was wonderful. She wiped away her milk mustache only to find Sue Ann watching her. The older woman asked what happened to Elle's arm which she responded that it was a mishap at church—to which Sue Ann responded that it was all part of the Lord's plan.

"Sometimes, we don't understand his plan," Sue Ann said.

"Like what happened to Roy?" Elle asked.

"Exactly like that. He just woke up one morning, blind as a bat. The doctors told him that he had cancer and maybe a month to live. So we prayed—and prayed. For a moment there, I wasn't sure he was going to make it because he went into a coma. But somehow when he woke up his cancer was gone."

"And what do you think made him better?"

"Prayer."

"And how exactly did you pray?"

"I asked that God's-will would be done and that my husband would be healed of his ailments."

"Isn't that just wishful thinking?"

"Not when you're talking to the guy upstairs."

"Does he at least pay rent?" Elle joked but it fell flat against Sue Ann. "So—uh, does the same guy help Roy pick out the people that he heals?"

"Of course, who else would it be?"

At that moment Dean walked in with Roy and snatched a couple of cookies. Sue Ann told them to finish up the cookies as she put Roy down for a rest. Elle watched as Dean practically inhaled the rest of the cookies, without milk, which almost seemed like a crime. In hushed tones, they exchanged the information they had each found out before Sue Ann got back. She noted the empty plate and packed a gallon-sized baggie with cookies before she sent the two Winchester siblings on their way. Dean and Elle walked out the front door, with their cookies, to find Layla and her mother waiting outside to go in. Layla kindly asked how Dean was doing. Elle could see that Mrs. Rourke could barely look at Dean—clearly she wasn't happy that Dean had been cured; but that wasn't exactly the way Elle expected a Christian to act. Mrs. Rourke asked if she and Layla could go in, but Sue Ann told them that Roy was napping. Apparently, that wasn't good enough for Layla's mother. Her insistence seemed to be embarrassing Layla. But Layla shied away until her mother snapped at Dean.

"Mom, stop," Layla pleaded.

"No, Layla! This is too much. We've been to every single service. If Roy'd stop choosing these strangers over you—strangers who don't even believe. I just can't pray any harder," Mrs. Rourke responded.

"Layla, what's wrong?" Dean asked.

"I have this thing…"Layla started.

"It's an inoperable brain tumor! Six months!"

"Mom…"

Elle could feel her heart sinking. Why only earlier this morning she had been in the same situation as Layla's mother—willing to do anything to make her loved one get better. As Dean apologized, Elle reached her hand out and squeezed Layla's It was the only thing she could think to do, but Layla's mother pulled her daughter's arm away from Elle. Elle muttered an apology but Mrs. Rourke said that feeling sorry wasn't going to do anything for her daughter and questioned why Dean deserved to live but her daughter didn't before she stomped away with her daughter. Elle and Dean walked back to the Impala. The youngest Winchester leaned against the car looking back at the house, Dean did the same.

"That went well," Elle commented.

"Sometimes I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not," Dean said shaking his head.

"Both. Always both."

Dean punched Elle in the arm before they got back into the Impala and drove to the motel where Sam was going to meet them. Elle snatched the motel room key from Dean's hands and went in before he did. She did a running jump and dive onto the first bed. Dean responded by throwing his jacket on her, but she didn't care. She was laying claim the bed—of course, Dean did almost just die. Maybe she'd be nice just for tonight, but she was too comfortable to get up at the moment. Dean sat down at the table beside Sam who was researching on his laptop. He asked Sam what he had found out and it wasn't good. Apparently, the heart attack victim died at the exactly same time that Dean was healed.

"So—I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed, six people over the past year, and I cross-checked them with the local obits. Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptom LeGrange was healing at the time," Sam said.

"Someone's healed of cancer, someone else dies of cancer?" Dean questioned.

"Somehow. LeGrange…he's trading a life for another," Sam responded.

"That's disturbing," Elle muttered with her head resting on a pillow.

"Wait, wait, wait. So, you're telling me that Marshall Hall died to save me?" Dean hissed.

"Look, Dean, the guy probably would've died anyway and someone else would've been healed," Sam argued.

"You never should have brought me here, Sam! And you shouldn't have let him do it, Elle!"

"Hey, I didn't do anything!" Elle retorted.

"Because you've been too busy popping pills!"

"That's not fair! I stopped!"

"Wait, what?" Sam questioned.

"Elle's been taking pain meds behind our backs—pain pills she stole from Dr. Ellicott."

"Elle, what the hell?"

"First of all, we're supposed to be angry at Sam. Second, I didn't steal the pills from Ellicott—I forged his signature. Thirdly, I stopped," Elle hissed

"Because that's obviously more legal," Sam scoffed.

"You're the one who got a guy killed, that's prosecutable, isn't it?"

"Dean—I was just trying to save your life."

"But now some guy is dead because of me," Dean groaned.

"I didn't know."

There was a lull in the conversation. By this point, Elle was sitting up on the bed looking between her brothers and they were doing the same looking around the room. Elle broke the eye contact by groaning and falling backward against the pillows. Sam scratched at his head before he began talking again.

"The thing I don't get is how is Roy doing it? How's he trading a life for a life?" Sam asked.

"Oh, he's not doing it," Dean scoffed. "Something else is doing it for him."

"What do you mean?"

"The old man I saw on stage…I didn't want to believe it, but deep down I knew."

"Oh shit, you've got to be kidding me," Elle groaned. "There's only one friggin thing that can give and take life exactly like that."

"I wish I was, but we're dealing with a friggin reaper."

"Damnit, this totally sucks."

"You two really think it's the Grim Reaper? Like, angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?" Sam asked.

"Not the reaper—a reaper, there's a difference."

"She's right—there's reaper law in pretty much every culture on earth, it goes by 100 different names, it's possible that there's more than one of them," Dean responded.

"First, how do you know so much about them? Second, you said you saw a dude in a suit," Sam questioned.

"I can answer the first one," Elle responded. "We thought we ran into a reaper in Independence a couple of months before we got you from Stanford. As far as the guy in a suit…"

"What? Should he have been working the whole black robe thing?" Dean scoffed. "You said it yourself that the clock stopped right? Reapers stop time. And you can only see 'em when they're coming at you which is why I could see it and you two dorks couldn't."

"Maybe, but…" Sam started.

"There's nothing else it could be, Sam! The question now becomes how is Roy controlling the damn thing?"

Elle thought for a moment before she popped off the bed.

"He's got to be using some sort of dark magic," Elle said.

"She makes a fair point. There were priests in the early Christian era who didn't give up magic and some of them veered kinda dark," Sam said.

"Ok, then we need to stop Roy," Dean said.

"But the question is how."

"Oh you know how."

"Wait, what the hell are you talking about, Dean? We can't kill Roy."

"The guy's playing God. He's deciding who lives and dies. That's a monster in my book."

"No. We're not going to kill a human being. We do that and we're no better than he is."

"Ok, we can't kill Roy, we can't kill death. So what are we supposed to friggin do?"

"You stopped reading once we found out the thing in Independence wasn't a reaper, didn't you?" Elle questioned. "If this thing is being controlled by black spell, we gotta figure out how to break it so that Roy isn't in control anymore. We're probably looking for some kind of spell book"

"So, we go back to the church and see if we can find it," Sam responded.

"Only we're going to have to hurry up, the service starts in fifteen minutes," Dean added. "Gonna have to figure out how to stall him."

"That's what you are for," Elle said with a wink. "Besides, it's much safer than creeping."

"Elle, I'm fine. I'm not dying anytime soon."

"That's what I thought a few days ago, but then…"

"Elle."

"Okay, okay—let's just get this over with."

Dean drove the Impala back to the church. The entire ride there, he had to convince Elle that she was needed to search for Roy's control on the reaper. Elle knew that her time would be better spent doing that—but she was stubborn and didn't want to take the chance of losing Dean again, but he convinced her that he wasn't going to let Roy do any healing, meaning that he would be just fine. Elle looked inside people's cars as she and Sam searched through the area looking for anything that might be helping Roy. She and Sam slipped inside the LeGrange house to search. Sam looked in the library while Elle went to the kitchen and snatched a cookie before she went back to the library.

"So—you were taking pain pills?" Sam asked.

"Oh, my god-now's really not the time, Sam," Elle groaned. "I wasn't addicted or anything."

"Because Dean caught you?"

"I'm not stupid. Besides, I have a broken wrist in case you haven't noticed."

"I never said you were stupid. You always do that. You take one thing I say and twist it."

"I do it to Dean too if that helps at all. Sam, stop!"

"What?"

"Do you hear that?"

A male voice calling for help echoed through the air. Elle and Sam ran back outside before they scanned the crowd to find the guy, but it was the guy who found them first. He was quite frantic when he got to them—asking them for help and saying that there was an old guy in a suit after him. Sam asked the guy where the old man was and the frightened guy pointed over his shoulder before Sam grabbed the guy's arm and began to run with him. Elle pulled her phone out of her pocket to call Dean. She needed to make sure that he was all right—but it was sort of hard to dial with one hand while running. It took several rings before Dean answered his phone.

"Dean! Are you all right? The reaper…" Elle started.

"I did it, Elle, I stopped Roy," Dean responded.

"Sam, Dean stopped 'im," Elle said holding her cast over the receiver in the phone.

Sam understood what that meant. They stopped running to catch their breath while Sam explained that guy was safe now. The guy turned to lean against a car when his eyes widened and he started yelling again. She was just about to hang up with Dean, but she began to look around.

"Tell Dean that it didn't work!" Sam shouted.

"Dean, it didn't work. The reaper's still coming," Elle told Dean.

"That's not possible. Roy's not doing anything," Dean said.

"I'm telling you that it didn't work!"

"Maybe Roy's not the one controlling it," Sam suggested.

"Sam says that maybe Roy's not our guy," Elle told Sam.

"Then who the hell is?" Dean asked. "Never mind—I got it. It's Sue Ann."

"How sure are you?"

"Well, she's in the corner holding a cross and talking to herself."

"Creepy. But her cookies were so good," Elle groaned.

"What cookies?" Sam asked.

"They're not important right now. Dean says that it's Sue Ann and I need to get over there and help him."

Without even waiting for Sam to respond, Elle took off in a sprint toward the tent. She wasn't going to let Dean take this bitch on by himself. By the time she got back to the tent, Dean was being manhandled by two cops outside as Sue Ann followed behind. Elle told the cops to let her brother go as Dean managed to shake them off. Sue Ann acted like Dean had been the one in the wrong in front of the cops—but Elle knew better. But her damn cookies. The cops told Dean that if he came back that they'd put the fear of god in him to which Dean responded with a sarcastic comment. Before Elle could ask Dean what happened, his friend Layla came back with a disappointed look on her face. Dean asked Elle to give him a minute to talk with Layla.

"What did you do now?" Elle asked.

"Elle, please?" Dean hissed. "One minute."

"I'll be timing you."

Elle took a few steps away from Layla and Dean to find Sam walking toward her. Elle rolled her eyes back at Dean which made Sam laugh. As they waited for Dean, they overheard Roy tell Mrs. Rourke that he was going to give Layla a private session later in the evening for which Mrs. Rourke thanked the reverend. With Sue Ann giving Dean the stink-eye, the Winchesters piled back in to the Impala and back to the motel. Back at the motel, the Winchesters sat at the table discussing what had transpired.

"So, Roy really believes?" Sam asked.

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't have a clue what his wife's doing," Dean responded.

"But the cookies," Elle groaned.

"Get over the damn cookies. They weren't that good anyway."

"They were better than the cookies you tried to make me for my tenth birthday."

"Transitioning away from the cookies. While Elle and I were looking—I found this book," Sam said. "It's ancient, written by a priest who went dark side, and there's a binding spell in here for trapping a reaper."

"Sounds about right," Elle commented.

"It must be one hell of a spell," Dean added.

"That's an understatement," Sam responded. "You gotta build a black alter with seriously dark stuff: bones, human blood…ugh, to cross a line like that. A preacher's wife, black magic, murder, evil."

"Desperate," Elle said. "Sounds like someone else I know."

"Elle, Sam didn't go Vader...intentionally. But what we do know is that Sue Ann must've used that spell to keep the reaper away from Roy," Dean groaned.

"Literally cheating death," Sam sighed.

"But I have a question—Roy's fine. So why is she still dark siding it?" Elle questioned. "She has to know that all magic comes at a price."

"But right now that price is the immoral. That's who the reaper is going after on Sue Ann's crusade."

"May God save us from half the people who think they're doing God's work," Dean scoffed.

"We gotta break that binding spell," Elle groaned. "So we have a creepy cross in the church and according to Dean, Sue Ann has a creepy cross necklace."

"So which one do we destroy?" Sam asked.

"To quote Elle: both. Always both. And we're gonna do it tonight," Dean said solemnly.

As they pulled down the gravel road, Dean turned the lights off on the Impala. The moon gave them enough light to see Layla's car in the dark. She was there to be healed by Roy. Elle listened as Dean told Sam that Layla would've been healed if it wasn't for him. That if she wasn't healed tonight, she was going to die in a couple of months. Dean was obviously feeling some unexpected guilt—but Sam reminded him that no one gets to play God—except for God, to which Dean responded by shaking his head. The three Winchesters slowly and silently got out of the car and crept on the tent. Elle, being the smallest, looked inside the tent. She saw Roy speaking with a small group including Layla and her mother.

"Sue Ann's not in there," Elle whispered back.

"Then where is she?" Dean asked. "That's where she was last time."

"She probably knew we'd be coming back. She's got to be in the house," Sam responded.

"You two go in the house. I'll—uh—I'll catch up later."

"You really think I'm going to let you out of my sight again?" Elle hissed.

"Quite suffocating me. I'm a grown-ass man who doesn't need his little sister protecting him from everything—including germs and old ladies. Just let me do this. Besides, Sue Ann isn't going to be expecting you two not to mention that you made me a promise."

"But you're not dying anymore."

"You're right. I feel so alive that I could use a run."

"Who are you and what have you done with my brother?"

Dean winked at his sister before he began to run toward the cops, shouting at them as he ran before he veered between the cars. Sam grabbed Elle's arm as they ran up the stairs to the house. Before they walked in the house, Elle pulled her rock-salt loaded shot-gun out for protection. She might not be able to kill Sue Ann, but she might be able to scare her and injure her. Sam and Elle searched through the house in the darkness, but Sue Ann wasn't out in the open. Sam was about to go upstairs when Elle noticed a crack of light outside the basement entrance.

"Sam, have you learned anything from these situations? It's always the creepy basement," Elle said seriously.

Sam chuckled quietly before he went down the stairs in front of Elle. As they descended the stairs, Elle cringed at what she saw. The basement was lit by candlelight, but the creepiest thing was the altar. The altar had parts of dead animals, blood, horns, among other creepy crap. But there was also a photograph of Dean in the middle—only his face had been crossed out in what looked like blood.

"That bitch," Elle whispered.

"That's not a very nice name to call someone who gave your brother life and who can take it away," Sue Ann said from behind them.

"You do realize only a bitch would say something like that, right?"

"Filthy language like that isn't going to get you a God-fearing husband."

"Now, Elle!" Sam shouted.

As Sam ran forward to flip the table the altar was one, Elle rushed for Sue Ann—but the woman was a lot faster than she looked. Elle managed to catch-up to her for a moment, before the old woman sharply twisted Elle's wrist that was in a cast. Elle screamed in pain before she slightly collapsed on the stairs giving the woman enough time to scurry up the stairs and close the hatch behind her. Elle tried to pound against the door to open it, but Sue Ann managed to put a beam across the door so that it wouldn't open. Elle called for Sam and he rushed up behind her to open the door, but even he couldn't get it to budge.

"You're right about one thing, Elle. She's definitely a bitch," Sam commented.

"Can't you two see? The Lord chose me to reward the just and punish the wicked. He deserves to die just as Layla deserves to live. It's His will," Sue Ann said through the door.

"Then I'm going to pray that it's his will that you get the end you deserve, you bitch!" Elle hissed.

Elle frustratingly ran her fingers through her hair but her cast got stuck in her hair. She screamed. If it wasn't for her friggin re-broken arm, she could've had the woman. She didn't have more time to wallow in self-pity because Sam told her to duck as he smashed in an old boarded-up window. Glass and wood splinters shattered over the ground as Elle moved carefully toward Sam. He boosted her up first, pushing her through the window. Sam was tall enough to climb out without assistance. They spotted Sue Ann just outside the door to the church. With his larger stride, Sam was able to run faster and reach her first. He tore the cross Sue Ann was holding out of her hands and threw it to the ground, breaking the glass bottle of blood. Knowing that Dean should be fine now—but feeling rather vindictive, Elle took a couple shots of salt-rounds at the woman which caused the older woman to fall to the ground.

"Who's the bitch now, bitch?" Elle scoffed. "Oh, that would be me…wouldn't it?"

"Elle, overkill much?" Sam asked.

"She started it. I'm just finishing it. Besides, it's just rock salt—which hurts like a bitch."

Sue Ann began to crawl on the ground toward the broken vial of blood asking what they had done. Elle watched as the woman's expression turned to one of terror as she stood up and began to run. The woman didn't get anywhere before her eyes began to glaze over and she fell to her knees. The woman began convulsing, but Elle didn't need to see anymore. Sue Ann was getting the end she deserved. Sure, Elle may have gone a little overboard—but it was deserved. She should probably feel a little worse about the woman losing her life, but she did try to kill her brother after all. Elle began to run through the nearly bare field for parking to find her oldest brother—the one she knew better than to leave alone despite his pleas. She found Dean sitting on the hood of the Impala. Without saying anything, Elle launched herself at her brother, accidentally smacking him in the nose with her cast, before enveloping him in a hug.

"I think you broke my nose," Dean groaned.

"I'd much rather have broken nose you over dead you any day," Elle mumbled.

"Yeah, yeah—I know, it's been one hell of a week."

"How about we end it and get out of here," Sam suggested as he leaned against the Impala.

"If she ever lets me go," Dean groaned.

"Never. I'll never let go," Elle said.

"Did you just quote a chick-flick on me?"

"I don't know, did I Dean?"

"I—uh—just get off, Elle."

Dean pushed his sister off him before they drove back to the motel and ordered Chinese food. Elle ate her Honey-Sesame chicken before she took a shower, making sure to wrap a plastic bag over her cast. When she got back out, she found Dean and Sam relaxing on the big beds. Elle plopped on the bed beside Dean. Droplets of water splattered on Dean's face before she turned to look at him.

"Your bed is over there," Dean said.

"Just for tonight? You know, to watch over you?" Elle asked innocently.

"Fine, but just tonight. Although, I swear to God if you kick me in the balls while you're sleeping I'm pushing you off the bed."

"Deal."

Elle chuckled as Dean shook his head at his sister before he cuddled up with his pillow. She yanked her blanket off her bed before she cuddled up with the other pillow knowing that Dean should be safe. Elle quickly fell asleep knowing that just for a little bit, things might be all right. In the morning, Elle woke up to Sam and Dean talking about Layla's situation—questioning whether it was the right thing to do. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door which confused Elle as Sam walked over to the door and opened it revealing Layla. Layla smiled at them and tried not to laugh at Elle's terrible bed-head as she stood up and stretched.

"I'm gonna go grab a soda," Sam chuckled.

"I'm not…" Elle started.

"She's not staying here. She's coming with me."

Sam wrapped his arm around his sister's shoulder and dragged her out of the room.

"One minute. I'm timing!"

Elle could hear Layla laughing as she walked toward the vending machines with Sam. She got herself a Cherry Coke and some Bubbalicious bubble gum; but Sam made her eat something before she went back to the room. Elle groaned before she snatched the Twix bar from Sam's hands and shoved it in her mouth. Sam laughed as Elle ran back to the room with her mouth full.

"I've given you five minutes! I'm coming in!" Elle shouted from outside the room right after swallowing.

Layla sat on the bed with tears shining in her eyes—but Dean was gone. Elle scratched her head and opened her mouth several times to speak without actually saying anything.

"I—uh—I," Elle stammered. "Where's Dean?"

"You don't like other girls with your brother, do you?" Layla chuckled.

"Girls come and go—but I'm the one who's not going anywhere."

"He's lucky to have someone like you."

"I'm luckier to have him as my big brother. I literally would not be here if it wasn't for him."

"He has a good heart."

"I don't mean to come off as a bitch, but is there a reason you're talking to me?"

"Dean thought it would be funny if was still here and he wasn't. I'm humoring him. But the look on your face was definitely worth it."

Elle sighed. This girl actually did seem pretty cool. It was a shame that she had to die. Elle just hoped that there was some place better for Layla—some place free of pain and tears.

"I'm sorry you have to die."

"I would say 'me too' but I believe that God works in mysterious ways and that everything works out for the good of those who love him."

"I have to admit, I'm jealous of the strength of your faith."

"Don't be—I'm only human. I have my moments of weakness as well."

"Layla, if there's anything I can do…" Elle said empathetically.

"Pray for me. Pray that it will be peaceful," Layla said through the tears.

"I—I don't know how."

"Then I'll show you how."

Layla took Elle's hands and bowed her head. Elle followed Layla's example as the sick woman began to speak.

"Dear Lord, we thank you for all the blessings you have bestowed upon us in our earthly life: food, drink, family, friendship. We ask that you watch over us and that if it is your will that we will meet up again if not in this life then in the one to come. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen."

"Amen." Elle repeated.

Layla lifted her head up and smiled at Elle.

"That simple. Just like having a conversation inside your head."

"Good to know. Hey, can I ask a favor of you?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Can I get your number? For Dean, that is…"

"Um—yeah, but you can hold on to it too. You make me laugh and I think I'm going to need some humorous texts the next few months."

Elle agreed as Layla punched her cellphone number into Elle's phone. The girls hugged before Layla walked out of the motel room and Dean came out of the bathroom. Elle shook her head at her oldest brother before she attempted to itch inside her cast. Dean plopped down on the bed beside Elle.

"You got me her number? Nice," Dean said. "Best little sister ever."

"I only did that because I knew you were in the bathroom. You're going to have to earn it," Elle grinned.

"Most evil little sister ever."

"But you love me anyway."

"Give me your phone."

"No."

"Hand it over."

"I told you—you gotta earn it."

Dean then began to tickle his little sister causing her to snort and accidentally head-butt her oldest brother, knocking him off the bed. Sam didn't even ask what happened when he walked in the room. His expression read that he didn't even want to know. About an hour later, the Winchesters were packed up and walking toward the Impala to head back out onto the road. Dean went to go check-out and Sam slid into the car. Elle stalled for a moment just outside the car and looked up at the sky, which made her sneeze first, but then she continued to look up after she double-checked to make sure no one was watching.

"Hey, if there really is someone upstairs—I uh—I just wanted to put in a request order. It's not for me, it's for Layla. Can you just make sure she doesn't suffer too much? If anyone deserves that much, it's her. So—uh—over and out. Amen and all that jazz."

Elle looked around once more to make sure that no one saw her before she slipped into the backseat of the Impala. Her wrist gave her a bit of pain, but she chose to ignore it. She fluffed her pillow, snuggled with Tigger, and reached for her Gameboy Advance SP but it wasn't where she left it. She sat up to see that Sam was playing her game. Elle shook her head and tried to steal the game back but Sam managed to hold her back with his elbow. When Dean got back to the car, Elle tried to convince him to get Sam to give back the game. But Dean just chuckled and said that he was staying out of it as he started the car. As they pulled out of the parking lot Elle moved to a different tactic to get her game back: annoying him until he handed it over. As Elle repeated Sam's name over and over again, Dean turned his music up again so that he couldn't hear her—but if Elle wasn't mistaken, he was at least smiling and amused by the situation. So once again, the Winchesters hit the road to find their next case to solve.


	14. Route 666

The Impala pulled into the gravel parking lot for a small bar in southern Iowa. Dean had to snatch the Gameboy Advance SP out of Elle's hands before they went inside. Elle groaned because she knew that she was going to get carded either way—so there was no reason not to bring the game console inside with her. Dean tossed it over to Sam who shut it in the glove compartment before they got out of the car. They walked inside to find that it was a much friendlier joint on the inside than the outside appearance let on. Dean led them to a table where the bucket of peanuts was full. As Elle and Sam sat down, Dean was already cracking open a peanut and tossing its shell onto the floor.

"God, I love places like this," Dean said with his mouth full of peanuts.

Elle took a peanut and smashed it open before she tossed the shell at her brother. Dean swatted it away before he took an uncrushed peanut and tossed it at Elle before it fell down her shirt. Elle groaned as the peanut had landed awkwardly in her bra. She looked around before she reached down her shirt, grabbed it, and then tossed it back at Dean. Elle and Sam laughed as Dean complained about the peanut being covered in boob sweat—which was probably the worst possible time for the waitress to come over. She was a skinny blonde thing with large female assets and it was obvious that Dean was checking her out which made Elle shake her head and wish that she had fought harder for the Gameboy she had stolen.

"Can I get ya'll something to drink?" the girl asked.

"Yes you can…" Dean started before he leaned to look at the girl's nametag. "Sheila. Surprise me with something on tap."

"You're not as charming as you think you are," Elle commented at Dean while Sheila wrote his order down. "That move is completely obvious."

"Just order your damn drinks."

"I'll take a Corona," Sam said.

"And for you?" Sheila asked Elle.

"What do you suggest?" Elle asked. "What's good?"

"For someone your age, honey? Root beer."

This made Sam and Dean laugh, but Elle groaned.

"Something a little harder," Elle said. "I'm twenty-one, thank you very much."

"Let me see that ID then," Sheila said as Elle reluctantly pulled out one of her fake ID's. "Thank you, Eleanor Rigby. Isn't that the name of a song?"

"Maybe, but…"

"Just get her what I'm having," Sam interrupted.

"Sure thing, hon," Sheila said with a wink.

"She's not going to like it," Dean muttered quietly. "But at least then that hot waitress will have to come back and get her a new order."

"If you tap that tonight I'm going to barf," Elle groaned.

They eventually ordered some pizza to go with their beers. Elle followed Sam's lead by slipping the piece of citrus fruit into the bottle of Corona. It wasn't bad, but she usually preferred drinking whatever Dean got, so she reached over and grabbed Dean's glass and sipped his beer. It tasted much better—so she set her bottle in front of Dean. He chuckled at first thinking that Elle was joking, but then he reached across the table to grab his beer back from Elle, but he knocked the glass causing the beer to spill all over her shirt. Damnit. Elle stood up and tried to keep the beer from soaking into her clothing while Dean muttered that it was a waste of good beer. But it was no use, she was drenched. She muttered a sarcastic thank you to her brother before going out to the Impala for a new shirt. After double-checking to make sure that no one was watching, Elle stripped out of her soaking shirt in the backseat of the Impala and changed into a dry blue t-shirt before going back into the bar. When she got back to the table, she found that Dean had ordered had gotten another mug of beer while a glass of water was in front of her spot. It was Dean's way of "cutting her off" even though she only had a few sips to drink. When the Winchesters finished their pizza and beers, Dean told Sam and Elle to head back to the motel and that he'd meet them later. That was Dean's way of saying that they were taking the evening off—so he could meet his needs. Knowing that Dean was going to want to use the car, Sam and Elle walked to the closest motel. While Elle wouldn't say that she was particularly fond of exercising (as she was exorcising) she did enjoy a good walk. By the time Sam and Elle got to the motel and checked in, they found Dean already in their room and laying on one of the beds with his hands behind his head. He must've known what room they were going to get and jimmied the lock. Elle was quick to beat Sam to the other bed—forcing the tallest Winchester to the smallest bed before the youngest Winchester turned to the oldest who was pretending to sleep.

"That was fast," Elle said off-handedly.

"What would you know about the process?" Dean responded without opening his eyes.

"Plenty, I'm related to you."

"Good point, but nothing happened between us. I just wanted you to think that there was and then I'd get first dibs on the bed I wanted."

"Loser, she was so your type," Elle commented.

"And what's my type?" Dean asked opening one eye.

"Desperate."

Sam snickered at this comment to which Dean shrugged. For the most part it was true—most of the girls Dean spent any significant amount of time with were quite desperate. Elle could list on one hand the number of girl's that she would exclude from that category, but there was no way that she would be bringing that list up with Dean anytime soon unless she had a death wish. Not to mention that Elle didn't particularly enjoy reminiscing about those kind of people. She asked Dean for a couple of ibuprofen, because he was still keeping an annoyingly close eye on her, before she pulled out her sketchbook from her backpack. She turned to her unfinished picture of what she thought a reaper might look like. Of course, she had annoyed Dean with questions about what he saw until he told her to just use her imagination. So, she was finishing the shading and texturing by using her imagination. Unintentionally, Elle fell asleep with her pencil in her hand, accidentally kicking her sketchbook off the bed in her sleep.

The next morning, Elle threw her hair up into a messy bun and remained in a baggy sweatshirt and jeans for another day on the road. They should hopefully make it to Pennsylvania after another long day of driving—or in Elle's case, riding in the back of the Impala. Thankfully, she had managed to snatch her gaming console from the glove compartment so most of her time was spent talking to herself, which annoyed her brothers, while she kicked some Pokémon ass. Dean coped with Elle by turning his music up louder which annoyed Sam who held his hands over his ears. It all came to an end when Dean took an exit off the freeway once they crossed the border into Indiana. Elle couldn't tell if it was because Dean was so annoyed or because they actually needed gas. Sam was the first one to get out of the car and he practically ran into the convenient store while Dean got out and stretched before he filled the Impala up. Elle reached over the front seat to grab some of the gummies Dean had in the front seat when she noticed Dean's cellphone beside the gummies with a missed call. Elle groaned as she had to reach a little farther to grab the phone before she poked her head out the window with his phone in her casted hand.

"Dean, you gotta missed call," Elle said with gummies in her mouth.

"What do you think you're doing with my phone?" Dean hissed.

"I just told you, loser."

"Just give it here."

"What do you think I was trying to do?"

Dean shook his head and snatched his phone from Elle's hands as Sam walked out of the gas station with maps in his hands. Sam made the sarcastic comment that he went in to find a way out of the road construction because he wanted to get to Pennsylvania faster so he didn't have to deal with Elle's annoying noises and Dean's music longer than he had to. Elle was about to argue that her noises weren't annoying when Dean interrupted her and told her that they weren't going to Pennsylvania. Both Sam and Elle looked to each other before they looked to Dean.

"What? Why?" Sam questioned.

"I just got a call from an—uh—old friend. Her father was killed last night, think it might be our kind of thing," Dean responded.

"Which old friend?" Elle asked.

"An old friend."

"So you've said. Do I know this old friend?"

"Just know that she never woulda called if she didn't need us."

Dean slid into the driver's seat leaving Elle and Sam outside.

"You guys coming or not?" Dean questioned.

"Can't I run in quick and get a Dr. Pepper?" Elle asked.

"You have exactly three minutes before I pull out of here for Ohio."

"Ohio? Oh—I know who we're going to see."

"Who?" Sam asked.

"Her name rhymes with Lassie."

"You shut your mouth," Dean grumbled.

"He's going to find out anyway."

"I've changed my mind; I'm leaving in one minute."

"You wouldn't."

Elle screamed that her brother was an ass as she ran toward the gas station. Much to her dismay, the place seemed to be out of Dr. Pepper—so she had to go with her second favorite: Cherry Coke. Dean peeled out of the gas station almost the second Elle was in the car, not even giving her time to shut her door. Elle muttered that her brother was an ass again before she pulled her cellphone out of her bag. Normally, she didn't keep in contact with people that she had saved, but Layla seemed different. Elle felt bad for the girl and thought that Layla deserved better—so anything Elle could do to bring a little happiness to the girl's life, she'd give it a shot. Recently, she had taken to texting Layla puns or jokes. Word of advice: you shouldn't trust stairs because they're always up to something was what Elle texted Layla before she leaned against the front seat. It was obvious Dean tried to ignore her as he drove.

"So does Cassie need us—or just you?" Elle asked mischievously.

"Who's Cassie?" Sam asked.

"His old friend."

"And by old…"

"A friend that isn't new," Dean muttered.

"I wouldn't call her a friend exactly," Elle scoffed. "Especially not after what I almost walked in on."

"Whoa, that kind of friend," Sam said. "Since when do you give that kind of friend your phone number?"

"Fine, we went out. Happy?" Dean snapped.

"As in you dated somebody? For more than one night?"

"My god—am I speaking a language you're not getting here?" Dad, Elle, and I were working a job in Ohio and Cassie was finishing up college. We went out for a coupla weeks."

"And?"

"And she…" Elle started.

"You keep your mouth shut or I swear to god that I will make your life more miserable than you can possibly imagine," Dean hissed.

"Why are you threatening Elle? I don't get why you're dropping everything for this girl. I mean—it's terrible about her dad, but kinda sounds like a standard car accident. I'm not seeing how it fits with what we do. Which by the way, how does she know what we do?"

"I can answer that. Before I was so rudely interrupted by Buttmunch, I was going to say that she knows the secret," Elle said.

"You told her?" Sam asked Dean. "You told her the secret? Our big family rule number one. We do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half I do nothing but lie to Jessica about you go out with this chick in Ohio a coupla times and you tell her everything?"

"Sam," Elle sighed knowing what Sam was trying to get at.

"Dean!"

"Yeah, looks like," Dean muttered.

"Unbelievable."

"Sam, give him a break. It's done and over with. There's no use in getting worked up over it. But if it helps you at all—I yelled at him enough for the both of us when I found out. Good times, good times," Elle said.

"So now you're cool with it?"

"I didn't say that—but can we please go one week without one Winchester being pissed at another? I'm sick of the family drama."

"Says the girl who's been pissed at Dad for months," Dean scoffed.

"That's different and you should just shut your mouth now."

Dean didn't say anything instead he glared at Elle for stealing his phrase for her which made Sam stop his bitchface and break into laughter. Dean attempted to ignore the comments that the student had surpassed the master from Elle which only made Sam laugh harder. Elle returned to her Gameboy game and remained rather quiet for the rest of the car ride—well, until her arm began to itch inside her cast and she complained about it to her brothers. By the time they finally pulled into Cassie's town, Elle had decided upon the fact that she should buy knitting needles because she could use them to itch inside her cast without having them break—but Dean didn't seem to care for her plan because he got out of the car as she was explaining it. Well that or he really wanted to see Cassie. Sam told her they'd go to the store after they humored Dean for a bit with Cassie. By the time Sam caught up to Dean he was already solely focused on Cassie, who had only seemed to have gotten more beautiful since the last time. Sam smiled and shook his head before he leaned closer toward his sister.

"How close were they?" Sam whispered.

"Closest I've ever seen him with anyone," Elle whispered back. "One of the only girls I actually was allowed to meet."

"I thought you said that you walked in on them."

"That was after I met her. Someone didn't tell me that the motel room was being occupied."

"What's she like?"

"I'll let you decide for yourself before I tell."

"This is my brother Sam," Dean said clearing his throat which caused Sam to wave. "And you remember, Elle, right?"

"Yeah, kind of hard to forget her and her kissy noises from the backseat of your car," Cassie chuckled.

"I would never…" Elle started. "No, wait—I did do that."

Sam chuckled but Dean remained quiet and stared at Cassie until she looked at him. Then he looked away for a bit and when he looked at her, she looked away. Elle rolled her eyes—like they were still acting like lovesick teenagers. She looked to Sam who was smiling and shaking his head before she interrupted whatever moment Dean and Cassie were having.

"So are we going to do this or sit here and stare at each other?" Elle commented. "I'd just like to know how to prepare myself."

"Um—yeah, we should go," Cassie said pulling her hair behind her ears. "You guys wanna follow me over to my mom's house and we can talk there?"

"Sounds great. So, shall we?"

Elle practically had to push Dean back to the Impala to keep him from staring at Cassie. Not wanting to put up with hearing Dean talk about her on the drive over, Elle asked to ride with Cassie, which surprised Dean's former flame. Elle plopped herself in the front seat of Cassie's vehicle as the girl drove back to her house. They chatted aimlessly—about what, Elle didn't really know, the subject kept changing from work to Elle's arm to recent television shows—but she played nice, something she didn't do the last time she had contact with Cassie. It wasn't that Cassie wasn't nice or cool or a good person in general, but Elle was as overprotective of her older brother as he was of her. Not to mention that she didn't like anyone taking up Dean's time when they were just going to cut him loose eventually. Oh fine, so maybe there was some jealousy issues there—but growing up the way she did, how could there not be? When they got to the house, Elle and Cassie waited outside on the lawn for Sam and Dean to meet up with them. When Dean was close enough to his sister, he grabbed Elle by her arm and pulled her close to him so that his mouth was practically against her ear.

"Were you nice?" Dean hissed at Elle.

"Why does it matter? It's not like you're dating her," Elle retorted.

"Elle."

"Yes—geez. I made awkward small talk and I think I might have even smiled a time or two."

"If I hear otherwise—"

"You won't."

Cassie invited them into the house and motioned for them to follow her inside the old house where her parents lived. As they walked into the entryway of the house, pictures of Cassie were hung all over the place. Elle swore she saw Cassie's gaze stay a little longer of the one of a picture of graduation day with her father beside her, but she didn't say anything. It made sense for Cassie to be a little sentimental about her father with him having recently died and all. Cassie pulled her hair behind her ears before she led the Winchesters into the front sitting room. She told them to make themselves comfortable. So, Sam and Dean sat down on the sofa while Elle leaned against the door frame as Cassie offered to get something to eat and drink for them. Elle watched as Cassie walked past her before she followed behind her. Cassie must've heard Elle's footsteps behind her because she stopped waking and turned around. Cassie's expression was confusion—so Elle was forced to explain her situation.

"Can I use your bathroom? Dean was being a jerk and wouldn't stop when I asked him to," Elle said to Cassie.

"Oh, yeah, it's the door on the right off the kitchen," Cassie responded.

"Thanks."

When Elle was finished with her bathroom business, she found Cassie leaning against the wall outside the bathroom holding a tray with items for tea on it. Dean was definitely not going to like tea—but Elle wasn't going to say anything because maybe it would give Dean something to not like about her. But Elle could feel that the tension between the two girls had suddenly risen. Elle groaned, knowing that Cassie was going to confront her about her change in behavior from the last time they met. Instead, Elle tried to distract with.

"You might not want to go in there—ever again," Elle said pointing back toward the bathroom.

"I'm surprised you still don't hate me," Cassie said. "You're actually being civil."

"Hate is such a strong word. I didn't hate you."

"Really? You sure had me fooled—especially with your ketchup message to die when Dean left us alone for a minute."

"It actually said "die bitch" and it was more of a strong dislike. I knew you were going to hurt him."

"And now?"

"Are you sleeping with my brother?"

"You know that I'm not."

"Then we're cool…for now—but if you hurt him again I know ways to dispose of you and leave no evidence."

"He wasn't the only one hurt."

"Yeah, but you were the first person he was actually honest with and then you broke his heart. I'm not going to let you do it again. So please, for all our sakes, keep your distance and it in your pants…or his pants…you know what? Just keep the pants on."

"Cassie? Elle? Are you two alive back there?" Dean called from the front room.

Elle shook her head before she walked back down the hallway and poked her head around the corner and into the sitting room to find Sam and Dean sitting there. Dean actually looked rather nervous as Elle smiled at him.

"You called?" Elle said.

"What have you done to Cassie?" Dean questioned.

"I'm right here, Dean," Cassie chuckled as she walked inside carrying tea and cups.

"Paranoid much?" Elle scoffed.

"No, I just know you," Dean said. "Play nice."

"I'm not four anymore."

"You weren't four last time either, but that's how old you acted."

"That was then, I've matured."

"Barely."

Elle sneered at her brother for a moment before she walked into the sitting room and sat down in the armchair beside Sam, giving Cassie perfect access to Dean. She knew that she was basically setting Cassie up to fail again in her book and it really should bother her, but it didn't. Cassie poured everyone a cup of tea and much to Elle's surprise, Dean actually took a cup. He didn't drink from it, but he still accepted one and set it down on the table in front of him. Elle took a sip of the liquid before deciding that it needed like half the jar of sugar. She had only gotten about 3 spoonfuls of sugar when Dean moved the sugar bowl on her. Elle groaned but she didn't have time to dwell on her sugar cut-off because Cassie began to explain why she brought them out.

"My dad swore that he saw an awful-looking black truck following him," Cassie said.

"A truck? Who was the driver?" Sam asked.

"He didn't talk about a driver. Just the truck. Said it would appear and disappear—and in the accident, Dad's car was dented, like it had been slammed into something big."

"You're sure the dent wasn't there before?"

"He sold cars. Always drove a new one. There wasn't a scratch on that thing. It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks leading from dad's car…leading to the edge where he went over. One set of tracks. His."

"But this isn't the first time this has happened?" Elle asked joining the conversation.

"No."

"The first guy was a friend of your father? Or so Dean has told me."

"Best friend, actually. Clayton Soames. They owned the car dealership together. Same thing. Dent. No Tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about dad: he '"lost control of his car.'"

"Can you think of any reasons why your father and his partner might be targets?" Dean asked.

"No."

"And you think this vanishing truck ran them off the road?" Sam asked.

"Well when you say it aloud like that…listen, I'm a little skeptical about all this…ghost stuff…or whatever it is you Winchesters are in to."

"Skeptical," Dean scoffed. "If I remember, I think you said I was nuts."

"That was then."

There was a moment of silence between them—as Cassie and Dean stated at each other again. Elle watched Cassie until the girl made eye contact with her. The girl better remember her warning because Elle didn't want to see Dean hurt again. Elle knew that a therapist would think there was definitely something faulty with her logic where her big brother was concerned, but it didn't matter. They didn't understand the world she lived in. Elle was the first one to break the deafening silence in the room.

"Believe me, we're not all into it."

"All I know is that I can't explain what happened up there. So I called you guys."

Elle wanted to make some snarky comment asking if she tried the Ghostbusters first, but she could see Dean watching her. Just then, Cassie's mother walked in the house with her arms full of groceries. The Winchesters rose to their feet as Cassie took the groceries from her mother. Mrs. Robinson was somewhat startled to see three people in her sitting room, but Cassie introduced all three of them. Elle waved a bit awkwardly when introduced. Dean wanted to ask Mrs. Robinson a few questions about her husband's death, but it was clear that the woman wasn't up to it. She got flustered and almost offended before she left the sitting room and the groceries in Cassie's arms. Cassie apologized for her mother. Apparently the whole thing had been really hard on her, which of course, was understandable.

The Winchesters stayed at Cassie's house for about another hour before they left to find a motel. Once in the car, Dean said that he didn't want to hear single word from Elle or Sam about Cassie. So instead, Sam and Elle texted each other about her—they were doing exactly what Dean wanted. He didn't hear anything except the sound of text notifications on Elle's and Sam's phones. The last text Elle got from Sam was about there being serious unfinished business when Dean pulled into the parking lot for the motel and demanded their cellphones. Elle tried to play dumb, but Dean had figured out that they were texting each other because no one would be having a conversation with either of them. Sam lied and said that he was texting one of his old college friends, but he refused to hand his phone over to prove it to Dean. Dean's parting words before going to check-in to the motel was for them to knock-it-off. Sam and Elle didn't finish their conversation until Dean was well out of earshot.

"I haven't seen him like this before," Sam commented.

"Well I have," Elle groaned. "And it didn't end well last time."

"Because you were being a bitch?"

"What exactly did Dean tell you?"

"Nothing, you've had your bitchface on since we got here. You didn't like her, did you?"

"I'm sure she's fine as a person. I—"

"You got jealous, didn't you?"

"I think I see Dean with the keys."

Elle quickly got out of the Impala even though she didn't see Dean anywhere. Sam knew what she was trying to do so he got out of the car too and followed her back to the trunk where she pretended to be organizing stuff. Sam stopped Elle by grabbing her hand causing their eyes to meet. She expected to find a harder expression on Sam's face, but instead, it looked at her sympathetically and she wasn't sure if she liked that any better.

"I didn't mean for it to come off like that. What I meant is that I get it. Dad didn't really give a shit, I wasn't there, and Dean found someone leaving you kinda by yourself. It makes sense to me that you'd try to sabotage things."

"I didn't even really do anything. The relationship imploded on its own."

"That may be, but I think we owe it to Dean to let this finish running its course."

"Meaning what?"

"Just let things play out—without interfering. Besides, we'll probably be out of here tomorrow anyway."

"We better be."

"We better be what?" Dean asked as he walked closer to the Impala with the keys jangling in his hands.

"We better be getting in our room soon. I'm exhausted."

Dean tossed Elle the key which she didn't catch and the fell to the asphalt. Elle bent over and picked the key up before she looked at Dean. Strange. He never gave her the key. It was always a race to see who could get the bigger beds in the motel rooms. Even stranger, Dean stayed in the car as Sam and Elle went into the motel room. Elle was pretty sure that he was texting Cassie given the expression on his face. Sam slung his arm around her shoulder and told her that they weren't going to interfere…much. It wasn't the same going into the motel room not having to battle for a bed. It was actually weird being civilized and deciding who would get to sleep where. Sam said that he'd take the bed by the door giving Elle the other, to which she didn't argue. Elle looked over at the rollaway bed where Dean was going to sleep. Maybe he'd get inside and argue with them. But it was almost another hour before Dean came inside. By that point, Elle was playing Pokémon again and Dean just went straight to the rollaway bed and sat down to take his boots off—no argument. Elle wasn't sure that she liked this version of Dean. The Dean who didn't even say a word to her before he laid his head on his pillow and went to sleep.

Elle awoke the next morning to Dean shouting for her to get up. Maybe she had just overreacted last night about him ignoring her—but then she found out that the only reason she had to get up was because Cassie wanted to meet them. Elle could feel her insides turn at the mentions of Cassie's name. Normally, she didn't dislike people this much—but then again, this was Cassie. Although, if Elle had been allowed to lead a normal life and Cassie hadn't dated Dean, she might have liked the girl. Elle took her sweet time getting ready. She took a long shower—claiming that her arm in a plastic bag slowed down the process. Then she went through her clean clothes—putting on about half-a-dozen different outfits before she decided on the same sweatshirt and jeans from the day before from her dirty clothes. She was going to make a pot of coffee for the hell of it, but Sam caught on to what she was doing and practically dragged her out to the Impala where Dean was impatiently waiting. Elle expected him to make some sort of comment to her, but he didn't. Instead, he just started the engine and sped out of the parking lot. This was why she didn't like Dean with Cassie. Something about him changed. People were naturally supposed to change, right? But Elle wasn't sure that this was the change that was necessary.

They finally pulled onto a dirt road that led to a field where the police were investigating things. Dean immediately spotted Cassie and walked straight for her, leaving Sam and Elle to follow behind. By the time Sam and Elle approached the situation, Cassie was practically breathing down the mayor's neck to shut down the road until they had sorted things out. The mayor refused to do this—claiming that accidents happened. Normally, Elle would agree with the guy but a third accident was too much of a coincidence despite the fact that she wanted to get the hell out of this town and away from Dean's ex. The mayor and Cassie seemed to have a staring contest for a few moments before Dean added his voice to the conversation which the mayor was none too happy about. He demanded to know who they were. So once again, Cassie introduced the Winchesters…as family friends. Elle felt a slight pang of guilt at the lie of family friends, but it didn't mean that she and Cassie were going to be best friends forever any time soon. The mayor continued to take the stance that there was nothing foul about what happened, that it was simply a coincidence, but Cassie argued otherwise. Cassie was quite a spitfire—Elle had forgotten that. Or maybe she never actually took the time to know that about the girl because she had been too busy hating her back then. But Cassie refused to back down—she even played the race card: would they close the road if the victims were white? Elle had to admit that maybe, she was even a bit jealous of Cassie's unwillingness to back down. Elle only acted that way around her family because she had figured out which buttons to play. The mayor made some parting comment about him being the last person Cassie should accuse of being racist and told Cassie to talk to her bother before he walked away.

Dean told Cassie that they would look into it, but they needed some time to do some digging. Cassie seemed to understand. It was like she almost moved in to hug him and he almost did the same, but Elle walked straight through the middle of them toward Sam. Sam shook his head and muttered about them not interfering to which Elle shot back that she wasn't…on purpose. The Winchesters piled back into the Impala and headed back to the motel to change into more business appropriate attire. Elle squeezed into her pencil skirt and matching blazer. Normally, it was just Sam and Dean getting all dressed up and she got to remain in her normal clothes, but since they were dressing as insurance agents, there was no reason for her to remain out of sight. She originally put on her blue Converse sneakers but they didn't work with the outfit and Dean told her to change otherwise their cover would be blown. So, Sam jimmied the lock on the room next to theirs and Elle borrowed a pair of dress shoes which were a size too big. Unfortunately, they were stiletto heels and Elle had never worn that type of shoe in her life. She already had one broken arm and Elle was pretty sure that she was going to have another one by the end of the day because of these shoes. Sam laughed at her as she attempted to walk back to the motel room holding her arms out like she was trying to balance herself on a tightrope. Dean didn't even look at her to laugh as he grumbled that they should head back to the car. Elle wanted to take the shoes off and throw them at Dean, but instead, she opted to just take them off and carry them in her hands while she walked barefoot to the car.

The Impala eventually pulled up to a lot near the docks. Elle groaned at the thought of having to walk up and down a pier to find the guy they were looking for. The shoe was probably going to get stuck in between the cracks and she was going to fall and die. Not exactly how she wanted to go. Besides, Dean probably wouldn't care because he'd be too concerned over Cassie. Elle made her feelings about the shoes and the situation known to Dean who was explaining the game plan to Sam.

"I'm staying in the car," Elle grunted.

"No, you're helping us get to the bottom of this," Dean argued. "Cassie needs us."

"And how am I supposed to get down to the pier? I can't walk in these things."

"Figure it out."

"How about you wear them and figure it out for me."

"Guys, I'd prefer to do this before they leave and we have to tail 'em," Sam interrupted.

"Fine," Dean and Elle muttered simultaneously.

Elle opened the door before she put the uncomfortable shoes back on her feet. As Elle got to her feet and took a couple of steps, there was one thing she was sure of: she'd never make a good princess. Elle stumbled several times and rolled her ankle, but thankfully Sam was there to catch her—since Dean's thoughts were preoccupied. They walked up and down the pier looking for Ron Stubbins and it turned out that he was having lunch at a picnic table they had walked past several times. Elle muttered a profanity under her breath as she tried to stabilize herself in the shoes.

"Excuse me, are you Ron Stubbins?" Sam asked.

"Depends on who's asking for me," the guy joked but it deadpanned. "Yes."

"You were friends with Jimmy Anderson?" Dean asked.

"Who are you?"

"We're Mr. Anderson's insurance company. We're just here to dot a few "I's" and cross some "T's'."

"And it takes three of you?

"This one here's a rookie observing for field work," Dean said pointing at Elle who was leaning against Sam to keep herself upright. "You can tell by the fact she can't walk in her own shoes."

Ron and his friend snickered as Elle held her emotions in check. She didn't say anything, but her grip on Sam's arm tightened. He groaned before he removed her hand from his arm and then continued the conversation.

"We were just wondering, had the deceased mentioned any unusual recent experiences?"

"What do you mean unusual?" Ron asked.

"Well, visions, hallucinations."

"It's all part of a medical examination kind of thing. All very standard," Dean added.

"Gotta make sure Mr. Anderson wasn't on anything that might have caused the accident," Elle added.

"What company did you say you were with?" Ron scrutinized.

"All National Mutual," Dean said quickly taking a card out of his pocket and flashing it at them so that they couldn't read it. "Tell me, did he ever mention seeing a truck? A big black truck?"

"What the hell are you talking about? You even speaking English?"

"According to the report there was a mention of a big black truck," Elle said.

"Miss, this truck—was it a big scary monster looking thing?" Ron's friend asked.

"Uh—" Elle fumbled.

"Yes, actually," Dean responded. "You know something about it?"

"Well, I've heard of a truck like that," the friend said.

"You have? Where?" Sam questioned.

"Not where, son. But when. Back in the '60s there was a string of deaths. Black men. Story goes, they disappeared in a big, nasty, black truck."

"Did they ever catch the guy who did it?" Dean asked.

"Never found him. Hell, not sure they even really looked. See there was a time this town wasn't too friendly to all its citizens."

The Winchesters thanked the men for their time before they headed back to the Impala. Elle made sure that she was out of eyesight from the gentlemen before she took the shoes off her feet—despite how cold the ground was. She wasn't sure what was worse—cold feet or hurting feet. Sam must've noticed her discomfort because he offered to give her a piggy-back the rest of the way to the car.

"So this truck…" Dean started.

"It keeps coming up, doesn't it?" Sam responded.

"You know, I was thinking. You heard of the flying Dutchman?"

"Yeah, a ghost ship, infused with the Captain's evil spirit. It was basically part of him."

"The only reason Dean's ever heard of it is because of SpongeBob," Elle jabbed.

"That's not entirely true," Dean argued. "But what if we're dealing with the same thing—only with you know…"

"A truck."

"The victims have all been black men," Sam added.

"So, a racist truck."

"I think it's a little more than that. I mean, they all seem connected to Cassie and her family," Dean said.

"Even better—a…" Elle started before Sam jabbed her in the side with the back of his elbow.

"Another angle to work with," Sam covered. "You should go talk to her."

"Yeah, I will," Dean muttered.

"Oh and you might wanna mention that other thing."

"What other thing?"

"The serious unfinished business."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Dean, I didn't even like you two together and I can tell that there's something going on. I don't like it—but I can still tell," Elle added.

"Whatever it was back then was a mistake. I shouldn't have told her the family secret."

"Look man, everybody's gotta open up to someone sometime," Sam said.

"Like me. I'm a perfect candidate for you to bear your soul to," Elle said.

"Sometimes someone outside the family."

"Yeah, well, I don't do that. Elle's right. She's the one I go to and it was stupid for me to get close to someone on the outside. It mean, look how it ended," Dean sighed.

There was a moment where they stopped. Elle wasn't entirely sure of the expression Sam was giving Dean because she was on his back—but Dean told Sam to know it off.

"You loved her," Sam commented.

"Oh God," Dean groaned.

"You were in love with her, but you dumped her."

"Wrong, she dumped him just like I knew she would," Elle said.

"Ouch. That hurts."

"Just get in the car or I'm leaving without the both of you," Dean muttered.

Sam let Elle down before she scrambled into the backseat of the Impala. Dean drove back to the motel and rested on his bed for a little bit while Elle turned the TV on and flipped the channel to something that would annoy Dean, but he didn't even say anything. He was too lost in his own thoughts to be annoyed with her. Eventually, Dean got up and showered. He came out in clean clothes and put his jacket on, saying that he was going to have a talk with Cassie. Sam mouthed "no" to Elle as he turned around and smirked at Dean while the oldest Winchester sibling walked out the door of the motel room.

"I'll be back," Dean called from outside.

"We'll see you tomorrow," Sam called after Dean.

"Don't encourage him like that," Elle groaned. "When his heart shatters again you're helping me pick up the pieces."

"Dean's a big boy, Mom."

"I'm hungry," Elle whined changing the subject.

"We can order something or we can go get something to go."

"Dean took the car and its cold outside. Let's order a pizza."

Sam agreed, so they ordered a pizza half with sausage and onion, the other half with mushroom, peppers, black olives, and spinach. Three guesses whose side was which. The front desk called their room when the pizza was there and Sam went to the office to go pay for it and pick it up. But the pizza wasn't the only thing Sam came back with. He also had a board game in his hands—the game of Life. Apparently, Sam was looking to spending quality bonding time tonight over pizza, drinks they had put in the fridge earlier, and a board game. Elle grabbed a can of Dr. Pepper from the fridge and walked over to the table where Sam was seated and already setting up the game board. She reached across the table to grab a slice of her half of the pizza.

"Where'd you get that?" Elle asked with her mouth full of sausage and onion pizza.

"They had a stack of them in the office. The guy said I could borrow it, but if it's not back by the time we check out he's gonna charge us," Sam responded. "I figured since it's gonna be just the two of us tonight we could play a game."

"So what is this supposed to be, family game night?"

"If that's what you want it to be. I was just thinking pizza, drinks, and games."

"And why exactly did you choose Life?"

"Because I know how much you hate Monopoly. There were like 4 kinds of Monopoly, Life, or Candyland. I can go back for Candyland if you really need me to."

"No, Life is fine. Well, the game Life is fine—real life kinda sucks."

"Don't have to tell me twice."

Elle picked up the blue car and put a pink peg in it. She watched as Sam put the red car with a blue peg in it on the college path. Elle followed his direction and put her car there too despite the cost. Besides, this was as close to going to college as she was going to get. It was obvious to Elle that Sam had played this game before—probably with Jess if Elle wasn't mistaken. There were times when he had to stop to explain something to her or make fun of her because she spun the spinner so terribly that it flew off the game board. Sam was the first one to reach the milestone of getting married. It looked like he almost had mixed emotions as he put a pink peg in his car and Elle had to ask him something that she'd wanted to know for a while now.

"Sam, can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

"Something real and you promise you won't get mad."

"Spit it out."

"If Dean and I hadn't come back to get you—if you gotta keep on living your life and Jess hadn't died. What did you plan on doing?"

"Wow, that's a loaded question."

"I mean, I guess you don't have to answer it if you don't want to…"

"This stays between us, got it? No running and telling, Dean."

"All right."

"I was going to go to law school…"

"I already know that though."

"I—uh—I was gonna propose to her. Jess, she was the one, you know?"

"Actually, I don't. Between you and mostly Dean, I haven't gotten beyond a first date with anyone…and even then the two of you were spying on me."

"In my defense, it was usually Dean's idea. He's just doesn't think anyone's good enough for you."

"Then by Dean's standards, who is?"

"Someone who can keep you safe, especially when we can't. Someone who gets the life but is good enough to treat you the way you deserve instead of just a one night stand. Someone who isn't going to take you away from us. Just to name a few."

"That person doesn't sound human."

"Probably isn't," Sam laughed.

Elle finally caught up to Sam and stopped to get married. She put a blue peg in her car and commented about his unhuman status—but not a demon because otherwise he'd be dead, which made Sam laugh again. Surprisingly, Elle was the first one to get a kid. According to the game of Life, she and her unhuman husband were quite fertile because she needed a second car for all her children which made Elle and Sam fall to the floor and roll around in laughter. When the laughter subsided, Sam turned to his sister whose face was still pink from the laughter. She smiled at him while leaning her head on the arm with her cast.

"You asked me a question and I'm going to ask for one in return," Sam said.

"Okay," Elle responded.

"What happened in Wisconsin with Dad?"

"You would ask that question."

"Please, Elle-Belle?"

"I'll tell you what I know—but just don't tell Dean."

"You keep mine and I'll keep yours."

"Honestly, I'm not exactly sure how I got there."

"Elle," Sam groaned.

"Let me finish. I'm being honest here. All I know is that I woke up near a lake in Wisconsin. I thought it was a dream but then there was this voice and it spoke to us. Before you ask—I have no idea who it was or what it was. Whatever it was, it brought Dad and me there for a reason. A reason I'm still not entirely sure of. It also said we'd meet again."

"Maybe it's the thing that…"

"It's not. Dad said as much. Said that whatever it wasn't as important as finding whatever killed Mom and Jess."

"That's all?"

"All that I can pick out through the fog," Elle lied.

"Why'd you keep it a secret?"

"That's a second question, you only asked for one."

Sam looked at Elle stunned for a moment before she burst out laughing. Elle then told Sam that she didn't tell them because she was scared of how they'd react, which was true—but she didn't tell him that Bobby also told her to keep it from them. Nor did she tell him that she was hiding the rest of the truth. Besides, part of her hoped that maybe Sam would tell Dean and then they'd drop everything. They never did finish their game but that was fine with Elle because Sam was kicking her ass—he had more Life tiles and money than she did, despite the fact that she had twice as many kids as he did. Her only chance at winning would have been to cheat and steal stuff when Sam wasn't looking.

"I've missed this," Sam said.

"Missed what?" Elle said.

"Spending time with you."

"You've been with me for months now."

"Yeah, but we haven't really done anything fun—like old times."

"I've missed this too."

Elle smiled at Sam before she got up and snatched the pillow from his bed. She then walked over to where he was laying on the floor and smacked him with the pillow.

"How's that for old times?" Elle giggled.

"You do realize that you just declared war," Sam said quickly getting to his feet and running to grab another pillow.

"No, no I didn't."

But it was too late. Sam smacked Elle with a different pillow before he tackled her onto the floor. She squealed and flailed about trying to get Sam off her, but she couldn't help but laugh. While it wasn't as epic of a pillow fight that they'd had when it was all three of them, it was still just as fun having a pillow fight at twenty-one than it was at nine. The plus side was that John Winchester wasn't there to come and ruin their fun—but management was. Sam and Elle apologized through the door before they started laughing. Elle then changed into her pajamas and plopped onto her bed as Sam flicked through the TV channels. She wanted to stay awake to watch TV with him, but she quickly fell asleep curled up under the covers.

Elle awoke the next morning to Sam gently shaking her. She opened her eyes slowly before she quickly closed them and told him that she wanted five more minutes. But she wasn't going to get five more minutes because there was another death—the mayor, and this time it was in a field. They were going to meet Dean over there later, who still hadn't come back. Elle flipped over to face Sam.

"Do I have to wear the heels?" Elle groaned.

"No, wear your boots," Sam chuckled.

"Thank god."

Slowly, she got out of bed before she looked outside to notice the snow falling steadily. She rubbed her arms just thinking about how cold it would be outside before she dressed in a t-shirt, flannel shirt, jacket, and Ugg boots before she had to dig through her duffel to find her hat and mittens. At least the snow was somewhat pretty—but she wasn't sure the cold made the snow worth it or not. Sam asked to borrow the office manager's truck—giving the guy some collateral before they left. Sam drove them back out to the field before they walked to meet the police who were investigating what had happened. Elle was surprised to find that they had beat Dean to the scene—but then again, after the night he probably had last night, maybe it shouldn't be so much of a surprise. Elle's nose was quite cold by the time Dean got there. She kept pressing her lips upward toward her nose to keep it warm. Sam told the cop that Dean was with him and Elle before he began teasing Dean about being gone all night. Elle kept her mouth shut remembering that they were letting things play out. Thankfully, after a few more jabs, they transitioned to what happened to the mayor.

"Every bone in his body is crushed. His internal organs are pudding," Elle commented. "Speaking of, I'm never going to be able to look at or eat pudding again."

"The cops are all stumped about what happened. It's like something ran him over," Sam finished on a more serious note.

"Something like a truck?"

"Yup."

"Tracks?"

"What do you think?" Elle said sarcastically.

"Fine, then what was the mayor doing here anyway?"

"He owned the property. Bout it a few weeks ago," Sam answered.

"There goes your racist truck theory, Elle. This guy's white."

"Maybe he's like Michael Jackson?" Elle said with a shrug.

"Doubt it, but the killings didn't happen up on the road. So that doesn't fit either," Sam said.

"Meaning that we're back to square one. This sucks."

The Winchesters made their way back into town. Dean drove by himself in the Impala and went to the newspaper office where Cassie worked to dig up any information they might have archived. Sam and Elle drove to the courthouse to dig up any records the town might have on the property. The lady in the records room was actually very helpful, surprisingly. Apparently, the mayor and his wife bought the once abandoned property. The previous owner had been the Dorian family and they owned it for like 150 years. Elle told this to Sam who put Dean on speakerphone so that Elle could properly relay what she had just read.

"Dorian?" Dean asked on the phone.

"That's what I said," Elle retorted.

Dean must've been on speakerphone too because Elle and Sam could overheard him talking to Cassie about the Dorians being the family who used to own the paper. That they were pillars of the town. Then Dean began muttering about how something was interesting.

"What's interesting?" Sam and Elle asked simultaneously.

"Whoa, you don't have to yell. Now get this—Cyrus Dorian vanished in April of '63. The case was investigated but it was never solved. It was right around the time the string of murders was going on back then," Dean said.

"That's a coincidence," Elle scoffed.

"I don't believe in coincidence," Cassie said.

"Neither does, Elle," Dean responded. "She was being sarcastic."

"Oh."

"There's a bunch of papers on the Dorian place here," Sam started. "The place musta been in bad shape when the mayor bought it."

"Why's that?"

"The first thing he did was bulldoze the place."

"It was a big deal," Cassie said. "It was one of the oldest houses left. He made the front page."

"You guys got a date on that?" Dean asked.

"The 3rd of last month," Elle responded. "It's gotta be tied to that house somehow because the killings started the next day."

"Figured as much."

All three Winchesters met up again at the motel. Dean noticed the board game still laying out one the table and shook his head before he stole a slice of Elle's day old pizza. Elle sat on her bed and flipped through John's journal trying to find something—anything useful in this situation. Dean's phone began to ring and Elle rolled her eyes at the thought of Cassie calling, but she was wrong. Well, it was Cassie but she had called Dean frantically because she had seen the truck. It had been outside her house. The Winchesters piled back into the Impala and Dean sped all the way over to Cassie's house. She was quite shaken when they got there. Dean sat with Cassie and her mother while Elle and Sam figured out how to make tea. Well, Elle watched as Sam made the tea—giving Dean his space with Cassie to comfort her. After acting like a bitch to the girl, Elle really wasn't sure she'd be any good at providing any comfort. Sam found a package of cookies and tossed them to Elle for her to carry to the sitting room as he brought two mugs of tea.

According to Cassie, it didn't look like anyone was driving the truck. Sam handed Mrs. Robinson her mug of tea before he carefully approached the subject of what her husband saw. Mrs. Robinson said that her husband, Martin, was under a lot of stress and didn't know what he was seeing. With a hint of anger in his voice, Dean told Cassie's mom that they were now marked. That something was going to try to kill them and it wasn't going to stop until it succeeded—that he needed to know anything she could tell them. Cassie jumped to her mother's defense, but Mrs. Robinson finally admitted that her husband had seen the truck. She told them that he thought the truck belonged to a man named Cyrus Dorian. Elle looked between Sam and Dean knowingly. All the evidence seemed to be pointing to this Cyrus creep, they just didn't know why.

"Mrs. Robinson, do you know how Cyrus died?" Elle asked sweetly.

"Oh lordy—we were all very young. I dated Cyrus for a while, I was also seeing Martin…in secret of course. Interracial couples didn't go over too well back then. When I broke it off with Cyrus he found out about Martin. I don't know, he—he changed. His hatred. His hatred was frightening," Mrs. Robinson started.

"The murders," Sam muttered.

"Cyrus was behind them, wasn't he?" Elle sighed.

"There were rumors. People of color disappearing into some kind of a truck. Nothing was ever done. Martin and—Martin and I were gonna be—uh—married in that little church hear here, but last minute we decided to elope as we didn't want the attention," Mrs. Robinson continued.

"And Cyrus?" Dean asked which caused Mrs. Robinson to burst into tears.

"The day we set for the wedding was the day someone set fire to the church there was a children's choir practicing in there. They all died."

"Did the attacks stop after that?" Elle asked.

"No!" Mrs. Robinson sobbed. "There was one more. One night that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him something terrible, but Martin, you see, Martin got loose. And he started hitting Cyrus and he just kept hitting him and hitting him."

"Why didn't you call the cops?" Dean asked.

"Dean, Loving v. Virginia hadn't happened yet," Elle said. "They coulda been arrested."

"What's that?"

"The Supreme Court case that ended laws against interracial marriage," Sam said shaking his head. "But I think there's a little more to it than that, isn't there, Mrs. Robinson?"

"Martin called his friends, Clayton Soames and Jimmy Anderson. They put Cyrus' body into the truck and they rolled it into the swamp at the end of his land and all three of them kept that secret all these years," Mrs. Robinson continued.

"And now all three of them are gone," Sam said.

"And so is Mayor Todd. He said that you of all people would know that he isn't a racist. Why would he say that?" Dean asked.

"He was a good man. He was a young deputy back then investigating Cyrus' disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done…he—he did nothing because he also knew what Cyrus had done."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Cassie sniffled.

"I thought I was protecting them and now there's no one left to protect."

"Yes there is," Dean said. "Cassie, why don't you get your mother upstairs to bed while Sam, Elle, and I have a discussion outside."

Cassie nodded her head as she coaxed her mother out of her chair. Sam and Dean went outside. Elle stood by the door waiting for Cassie to pass by. She felt bad for the way she treated the girl. She figured she should at least make some peace with the girl—just in case for some reason they couldn't figure this out. Mrs. Robinson went upstairs first and Cassie followed close behind—but Elle stopped Cassie for a moment.

"Cassie, I'm sorry," Elle apologized.

"For what?" Cassie asked.

"For all of this. I wouldn't wish anything to do with this life on anybody."

Cassie nodded her head, accepting the apology before Elle walked outside to talk with her brothers.

"What bitchy thing did you tell Cassie now?" Dean groaned.

"I apologized," Elle retorted.

"You did?" Sam and Dean questioned.

"I did. I might not be her biggest fan, but like I told her—I wouldn't wish our life on anybody because it sucks."

"Huh, so this killer truck…" Dean started.

"I miss conversations that didn't start with 'this killer truck'. Uhh," Sam groaned.

"If we're being technical, this conversation started with 'what bitchy thing did you tell Cassie now' we segued to the killer truck," Elle corrected.

"Either way, this Cyrus guy—evil on a level that infected even his truck. When he died, the swamp because his tomb and his spirit was dormant for 40 years," Dean explained.

"And then like Mt. St. Helens…BOOM!"

"So what woke it up?" Sam asked.

"The construction on his house…" Dean started.

"Or the destruction," Elle added.

"It could be either. Demolition or remodeling can awaken spirits and make them restless," Sam said.

"He's out for blood—first after the guys who killed him. And then for the guy who kept Cyrus' murder quiet and unsolved," Dean said.

"So what now?" Elle asked.

"We can always test the theory by sacrificing Elle," Dean suggested.

"What?"

"C'mon Dean, you know that Cyrus couldn't handle Elle for more than twenty minutes before he would be paying us to take her back," Sam teased.

"True," Dean agreed.

"You were joking, right?" Elle questioned.

"You know that what we have to do is dredge that body up from the swamp, salt it, and burn it," Sam chuckled.

"You mean you two get to dredge the body up. That's what you two get for even thinking about sacrificing me as a joke," Elle scoffed before holding up her arm cast. "Besides, I'm crippled."

Cassie came out of the house and walked toward Dean, telling him that her mother was asleep. Not wanting to interfere, but still not wanting to witness what was going on, Elle climbed into the backseat of the Impala and pulled her Gameboy out. She immaturely battled Pokémon while she waited for Sam and Dean. When they finally got in the car, Elle attempted to ignore Sam's teasing of Dean. Part of her wondered what Sam would do to her if she ever found someone to feel like that about. Would he tease her? Probably. But for right now, she listened to Sam's teasing until they got to the Dorian property. They looked around the property to find something to get the truck out of the water but the Winchesters finally decided on a tractor with chains and brought it to the water's edge. Elle sat in the driver's seat of the Impala manning the lights of the Impala and playing her Gameboy. She probably should have more helpful, but there really wasn't much for her to do. Dean called for more light, so Elle turned the hi-beams on only to have him yell back that it was too much light. Elle chuckled as she turned the lights back to normal and stuck her head out the window.

"I've seen glaciers move fast than you two!" Elle shouted.

"Well, we'd be moving a little faster if someone got her little ass out here," Dean hissed.

"I can't risk you two going with Plan B and sacrificing me."

"It was a friggin' joke!"

"Your mistake."

After about ten more minutes, Elle could see flames beginning to flicker in front of her. Her work was done—so, she crawled into the backseat and cuddled with Tigger while she waited for her brothers. She was in no way prepared for what happened next. Dean came running into the car and started the engine. She made a bad joke when Dean said that it really wasn't the time for jokes—especially with a killer truck on their tails. Dean sped away as Elle looked behind her to see a black truck beginning to chase after them.

"What about Sam?" Elle questioned.

"He's gonna figure out how to get rid of the truck," Dean said.

"And us?"

"We're going for a drive. Call Sam, would ya?"

Elle quickly pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed Sam. Dean told her to put it on speakerphone, so she did.

"Sammy!" Dean called.

"You guys gotta give me a minute," Sam said.

"We don't have a minute!" Elle hissed.

"Lemme get back to you guys."

Sam then hung up his phone.

"Oh my god, did he really just hang up on us?" Elle shouted.

"It better be friggin' important," Dean muttered.

The truck was gaining on them as they waited for Sam to call them back. The five minutes it took for Sam to call back seemed like an eternity; but when he finally called back, he wanted to know where they were.

"I don't know—in the middle of nowhere with a killer truck on our ass," Elle commented.

"Guys listen, this is important. I need to know exactly where you guys are," Sam said over the phone.

"Decatur Road, about two miles off the highway," Dean responded.

"Headed East?"

"Yes!"

The black truck back ended the Impala causing Dean and Elle to scream. Elle hit her head against the front seat before she punched herself with her cast. She was probably going to have a black eye, from herself. Dean thankfully managed to get the Impala back on the road after it skidded across the road. Sam yelled for them to turn right up ahead. Dean swung the Impala to the right but the truck continued to follow them. Elle screamed for Sam to tell them the rest of the plan and Dean told him to hurry it up. Sam fumbled for a second before he told them to turn left onto a dirt road, so Dean turned the Impala left.

"Sam, what the hell are we doing?" Elle asked.

"You're going to go exactly seven tenths of a mile and then stop," Sam explained.

"Stop?" Dean questioned.

"That's going to get us killed," Elle hissed.

"Just trust me on this, please," Sam said.

"Fine, seven tenths….seven tenths…seven tenths," Dean muttered.

When they had gone seven tenths of a mile, Dean did a 180 and spun the car so that it faced the black truck which had come to a stop. Elle examined their surroundings. It was like they were inside an old building. The walls posts were broken down and Elle thought she might have seen a cross. The black truck's engine began to rev as Dean asked Sam what the hell they were doing. Sam said that they were bringing it to them. Elle and Dean looked at each other with eyes wide as the tires began to spin on the black truck. As it barreled toward them, Elle fell to the floor of car to protect herself, covering her head. The truck seemed to pass right through them and it disintegrated into nothing.

"Dean," Elle muttered.

"Y—yeah?" Dean stammered.

"Is it gone?"

"I think so, but what the hell happened to it?"

"You guys are where the old church used to be," Sam's voice came from the phone. "The place Cyrus burned down and murdered all those kids."

"There's not much of it left," Elle said sitting back up.

"No, but church ground is hallowed ground, whether the church is still there or not. Evil spirits cross over hallowed ground, sometimes they're destroyed. So, I figured maybe that would get rid of it."

"Maybe? Maybe? What if you were wrong? Elle and I coulda been road kill!" Dean hissed.

"Huh—honestly, that thought hadn't occurred to me."

"It didn't occur to you?" Elle questioned.

"I'm gonna kill him," Dean mumbled.

"You're gonna have to get in line behind me."

"You guys do realize I can hear you, right?" Sam chuckled.

"So when you least expect it, expect it."

Dean drove back and picked Sam up before the Winchesters went back to their motel and went to sleep. The next morning they quickly packed their things and loaded the car. Elle and Sam waited in the Impala for Dean to check out. Elle tapped Sam on the shoulder and motioned for him to look down. With a confused look on his face, he followed Elle's directions as she slowly lifted her pillow up. Sam began to chuckle as he could see the game of Life hidden underneath her pillow. Dean was probably going to be pissed because of the extra charges put on the stolen credit card—but it was worth it. When Dean got back to the car he asked if either of them knew what happened to the board game but both Sam and Elle played dumb and Dean knew it too; but instead of arguing with them he started the engine to the Impala. He drove them down to the pier where he was supposed to meet Cassie. Sam and Elle once again waited in the car while Dean took care of his business.

"It was never her—it was the thought of her taking him away, wasn't it?" Sam asked.

"Do we have to do this again?" Elle groaned.

"He's not going to leave you."

"He's been ignoring me since we got here."

"Sure, he's been a bit side-tracked, but Dean knows that family comes first. Why else do you think he's had such a hard time with this one? It's not that he's afraid Cassie's gonna hurt him again—he's afraid of hurting you again."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because it's what I'd do."

"And what about you?"

"I'll never stop being your big brother. I don't know if you've realized it, but you're kinda stuck with me and Dean."

Elle chuckled and pulled out her sketchbook. She returned to a sketch of a photograph off all three of the Winchester siblings. Dean didn't look hurt when he got back to the Impala nor did he look completely elated. He just looked…normal. Dean tossed Sam the keys and Sam slid over into the driver's seat while Dean sat in the passenger's seat and put his shades down and got in a comfortable position. He muttered for Sam to wake him up when it was his turn to drive. Elle continued to shade her sketch before she wrote the words Us against the world… on the bottom of the page. It had always been the three of them against the world and it would continue to be.


	15. Nightmare

It was one of those nights—one of those nights when insomnia plagued the youngest Winchester. Elle lay on the rollaway bed staring straight up at the ceiling, having given up on a full night's sleep a while ago. At this point she just hoped that sleep would overtake her, but that was probably too much to ask especially since she couldn't seem to shut her brain down. Her thoughts just continued to swirl and swirl over nothing important, which was probably the worst part of it all. Hell, if she had something big on her mind she would be more forgiving of herself for not falling asleep. But things had been somewhat good recently with the Winchester siblings—well, as good as things can be for the Winchesters. They hadn't heard from John and there was currently no big Winchester sibling drama. All sorta seemed right in the world, in a sense, but maybe that was what worried her. Nothing ever stayed right for long. She continually spent her life in worry waiting for the other shoe to drop—and it always did.

Elle could hear Sam stirring from his bed. Maybe he was awake too. She sat up in bed and looked over to him. He wasn't awake but something didn't seem quite right. He looked awfully tense and sweaty. He was probably having some sort of nightmare. She needed to get him out of his dream state because it's what he would do for her, if he noticed. So, Elle quickly padded across the cool carpeting and over to Sam's bed. She gently shook him and whispered his name, not wanting to wake Dean up in the process. But that plan failed. She tried shaking him a little harder, but that did nothing to relieve the tension that his body was going through. Elle then gently began to slap his face and say his name a little louder. Something about this didn't seem right—it didn't seem normal, like a normal nightmare. She moved away from Sam to wake Dean up when Sam gasped for air and sat up straight in his bed, breathing heavily. He looked at Elle in confusion as she quickly rushed over to his side.

"What the hell was that?" Elle hissed.

"We have to go," was all Sam responded.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"We have to go," he repeated.

"You wake up from some sort of dream and now decide we need to go? Why?"

"It wasn't a normal dream. It was one of my visions. Now wake Dean up. We gotta get out of here right now."

"Is something after us?"

"No."

"Then I'm not seeing the rush job on this."

"Innocent lives are at stake. Are you gonna wake him up or do I have to do it?"

Elle rolled her eyes before she walked over to Dean's bed. Forgetting how hard the cast on her arm was, Elle whacked Dean in the arm with it. His eyes immediately flew open and his other hand went to the spot where she had hit him. Sam walked into the bathroom as Elle continued to awake her brother.

"God, that thing's a dangerous weapon," Dean groaned.

"Well, get up before I have to use it again," Elle retorted.

"Why the hell are we getting up?"

"Because we're leaving."

"Leaving? What's happening?"

"I don't know, but Sam's freaked. He had one of his dreams."

"Can't it wait?"

"No, we gotta go now," Sam said as he came out of the bathroom.

"Told you," Elle directed at Dean with her hands on her hips.

Dean groaned as he got out of bed while Elle began to shove everything she could into her duffel bag. Normally, she would roll her clothes so that her bag wasn't as big, but given the urgency from Sam, she decided against taking her time doing so. Half an hour later, the Impala peeled out of the motel parking lot with one panicked Winchester and two sleepy ones. Elle was actually glad to be in the backseat because maybe she'd finally be able to fall asleep—but no such luck. Instead, Elle listened as Sam impersonated a Michigan state police officer trying to get a hit on a license plate. Dean yawned and told Sammy to relax—that it was just a nightmare. But Sam said that this seemed different. This felt real—like the dream about their former residence in Lawrence and like Jessica. Elle sat up quizzically. She hadn't really heard anything about Jessica in Sam's dreams. Of course, she had been pretty worked up in her own drama with her father to take the time to ask.

"You dreamt about Jess?" Elle asked.

"I dreamt the entire thing before it happened," Sam sighed. "And the same thing happened tonight. It can't be a coincidence."

Elle bit her lip nervously. He dreamt it? Hadn't she been dreaming about that lake in Wisconsin? Hadn't she heard that voice before in her dreams? Dreams, were a strange thing—but that's all they are, right? Just dreams? But Elle knew she was wrong and it was confirmed when Sam got a name and address for the license plate. She knew that it would do her no good to dwell on her dreams because she hadn't had that kind of dream in a while. Sam had two of those kind of dreams since she has her last one. She told herself that her dreams had to be coincidence and pushed it from her thoughts to focus on Sam's issue. Apparently, the guy was named Jim Miller and he lived in Saginaw, Michigan, which they were still a couple of hours away from according to Dean. Sam told Dean to drive faster and Elle looked to Sam worriedly. She didn't want to admit it…but something felt different about this.

When they arrived, emergency vehicles and a crowd were gathered around the Miller residence. Dean looked to Sam with concern clearly evident on his face but Sam looked upset. Elle wasn't sure what to think about the situation—she knew better than to believe in coincidences, but this time she hoped, hell, even prayed that this was one big friggin' coincidence. Elle knew that there was no way they were going to get a straight story about what was going on. They would get rumors, some of which could be true, but right now they needed facts. What they really needed was better eyes, so Elle dug through her bag and pulled out her camera. She needed to change the batteries before got out into the night's cool air. Dean must've noticed the camera because he pulled her aside for a moment.

"Get whatever shots you can," Dean whispered. "You're short and should be able to get closer than Sam or I."

"Got it," Elle whispered.

"And Elle…"

"Yeah?"

"Let's not jump to any conclusions until we have all the facts. This one feels different."

"Yeah, I had a bad feeling about that."

"But we gotta keep this normal for Sam."

Elle nodded before she pulled her hood up and pushed herself through the crowd until she made her way to the barricade the police had set up. Not wanting to appear insensitive, Elle bent down to make it look like she was tying her shoes. She just hoped no one realized that she was wearing boots that didn't tie. From down low, she was careful to zoom in as close as she could before she snapped a few pics of the garage. She then stood up and muttered something about it being cold outside before she walked through the crowd once again to get closer to the ambulance which was being loaded with a black body bag off a stretcher. If the scene wasn't so somber she would have gone to Dean and punched him for the time he made her sneak in a body bag on a case. She snapped a few photographs of that; unsure of what was going to happen. Suddenly, an older man grabbed hold of her arm.

"What do you think you're doing?" he hissed.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Elle retorted.

"Like you're intruding on this poor family's right to privacy."

"Well I also have freedom of the press on my side. I'm not crossing any boundaries. Everything I'm doing is legal."

"Really? And what paper you write for?"

"I'm freelance and I write for my blog."

"Blog?"

"Please tell me you know what a blog is."

"What blog?" the man asked, but Elle was still pretty sure the guy didn't have a clue what a blog was.

"driverpicksthemusicshotgunshutshiscakehole .com , you should check it out. Need me to write that down for you?"

The man looked confused as Elle bit her lip. He then grumpily walked away muttering to himself wondering what the hell a blog was. Elle breathed a sigh of relief as she snapped a few more shots of what she assumed were family members because they weren't wearing emergency personnel uniforms before she walked back through the crowd toward the Impala. Sam and Dean had yet to return to the car, so Elle pulled one of Dean's jackets out and pulled it on because she was cold and it would fit over her bulky sweatshirt comfortably. She was sitting on the hood of the car thumbing through the pictures on her camera when Sam and Dean finally approached. Neither one had a happy expression on their faces.

"What'd you get?" Dean asked.

"Nothing you probably don't know. But I'm guessing that whatever the hell happened, happened in the garage with Miss Scarlett and the wrench," Elle said.

"Can we discuss this seriously? A guy is dead," Sam said slightly miffed.

"I know that, Sam; but don't get all pissy about it."

"I think what Elle means is that we got here as fast as we could," Dean said clearing his throat.

"Well, it obviously wasn't fast enough. It just doesn't make any sense, any of it," Sam said running his fingers through his hair.

"We can't save them all, you know that," Elle sighed. "I think you've even told me that a time or two."

"But this guy was different. I mean, why would I even have those premonitions if there wasn't a chance I could stop them from happening?"

Elle and Dean looked to each other before Dean responded for them both with a "dunno." Sam shook his head and sighed before looking back at his siblings.

"So, what do you guys think killed him?" Sam asked.

"I was anti-social and just took the pictures," Elle said raising her hands in defense as Dean stole the camera from her hand. "Well, except for the guy who was yelling at me so I'm basically useless in this situation."

"Maybe the guy just killed himself," Dean sighed. "Maybe there's nothing supernatural going on at all."

"No, I'm telling you that I watched it happen. He was murdered by something, Dean," Sam groaned. "I watched it trap him in the garage."

"Besides, you know how I feel about coincidences," Elle said. "This is the third premonition that we know of."

"But Sammy himself said that his one was different," Dean said. "But fine, say I'm gonna bite. What was it? A spirit? A poltergeist? Something else?"

"I don't know what it was. I don't know why I'm having these dreams and I don't know what the hell is happening, all right?" Sam said getting a little worked up.

"You're not the only one who has weird dreams," Elle said before instantly regretting her words.

"You get them too?"

"No, of course not," Elle scoffed trying to get the attention off her. "I was just trying to make you feel better."

Sam shook his head at his sister only to find his older brother watching him curiously.

"What, man?" Sam asked.

"Nothing," Dean said with a shrug. "I'm just worried about you."

"Well, don't look at me like that. Besides, you should be worried at Elle's pathetic attempt to make me feel better."

"I aint looking at you like anything. Though, I gotta say, you do look like crap."

"Nice. Thanks."

"It was heartfelt, unlike Elle's."

"Buttmunch," Elle muttered.

"That's a much more sincere thing to call Sam."

"I was referring to you."

"Lies."

"No…" Elle was stopped by Dean putting his hand over her mouth.

"How 'bout we pick this up in the morning. Elle's useless like this and I gotta admit that I'm shot too. We'll check out the house and talk to the family."

"Dean, look at them," Sam said taking the camera and showing a picture of the family. "They're devastated. They're not going to want to talk to us."

"Yeah, you're probably right. But I think I know who they will talk to," Dean responded.

"Who?" Sam and Elle asked simultaneously.

Dean only smirked before he motioned them into the Impala. They found a new motel rather quickly. Elle was so tired when she collapsed onto the lumpy mattress; but she couldn't fall asleep with Sam pacing the room. She tried pulling the pillow over her face so that she couldn't hear or see him, but it got too stuffy under the pillow to comfortably fall asleep. Dean however managed to find sleep easily which slightly angered the youngest Winchester. With an angry expression on her face, Elle stared up at the ceiling once more. Her right eye twitched. It was either from lack of sleep or a potassium deficiency; she assumed the former, although if she remembered, she'd try and eat a banana in the morning. Elle sighed in relief as she heard the springs on Sam's bed creak and the light click off. She had just closed her eyes when she heard the faintest sound of the door opening and closing. Elle groaned as she rolled to look over and Dean's bed only to see him sleeping soundly. Damnit. Elle slowly rose herself into a sleeping position before crawling out of bed. She couldn't find where she put her shoes in the darkness, so she walked outside in her socks. She found her brother pacing up and down the sidewalk. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed his sister standing in his path.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked.

"Can't sleep," Elle muttered.

"But that doesn't explain why you're here."

"Because I know that whatever this is, it's bothering you. Dean told me to not let it show, but if something is bothering you then it's going to bother me too."

"That's sweet Elle-Belle, it really is, but you really should just go back to bed."

"Are you saying that I'm so hideous that I'm in need of beauty sleep?"

Sam chuckled slightly.

"Can we at least sit?" Elle asked.

"Yeah, I guess," Sam responded.

They moved over to a wooden bench and sat down. Elle sat cross-legged on the bench and leaned her head against Sam's shoulder. She snuggled in closer to older brother and tried to look up at him despite her drooping eyelids.

"I apologize in advance if I give terrible advice half-asleep," Elle muttered.

"I don't need advice," Sam said.

"Then just talk about it. That's what you've always told me."

"You already know most of it. There's just something about this that seems…"

Surprisingly, Elle found sleep easily outside in a rather uncomfortable position. She didn't even hear the rest of what Sam had to say. When Sam finally noticed that Elle had fallen asleep on him he looked over at her and smiled. He knew that she cared and despite how annoying and awkward she could be, he loved her nonetheless. She was his little sister and there was something special about that—even in their walk of life. Sam picked his sister up, one arm under her neck and the other under the crook of her knees before he carried her back inside the motel room and set her on her bed. He tucked her in, careful not to wake her before he went back outside to think some more. The next morning when Elle finally woke up, she was flabbergasted to see Sam and Dean dressed as priests. She closed her eyes tightly before quickly opening them again. They were still wearing the get-ups.

"What the hell are you two wearing?" Elle questioned.

"Watch the language, Sister," Dean countered. "You got one too."

Dean pointed to a costume hanging on the bathroom door. For about five minutes, Elle argued that impersonating personnel of the Lord was downright wrong; but it was an argument that she lost. Dean told her to put the thing on or he'd put it on for her. Elle groaned and put on her nun disguise. She would make a terrible nun—besides, what if the nuns at the church they were pretending to be from didn't wear this get-up. She was pretty sure that each church or whatever terminology they used got to decide what was worn. Either way, she definitely didn't like this.

When they got to the Miller's house, Elle had to hike the outfit up a bit as she walked because the thing was too long for her. She had already tripped once trying to get to the car and had scratched up her good arm. She also had to be conscious that her sleeve always covered up the male genitalia Dean had drawn on her cast because that was something she didn't want to have to explain. They got to the door and Dean rang the doorbell. He was the only one who looked confident while both Sam and Elle looked downright awkward and uncomfortable.

"This has gotta be a whole new low for us," Sam muttered.

Dean smirked.

"I swear to god, if we somehow get through this, I'm going to kill you," Elle hissed.

"Now, now, Sister. Is that really what the big guy wants?" Dean countered.

"I. Hate. You."

"Well, you're gonna have to act like you like me in five, four, three, two…"

The man who had been comforting Mrs. Miller the night before opened the door. He looked at them in confusion for a moment as they all smiled at him.

"Good afternoon, I'm Father Simmons and this is Father Frehley. We're new junior priests over at St. Augustine's," Dean started. "This is…"

"Who is she?" the man interrupted.

"Fraulein Maria," Elle said.

The man narrowed his eyes slightly at her and blinked several times in disbelief. Dean, Sam, and Elle all looked to each other before pretending to laugh.

"People never seem to believe we nuns have a sense of humor. We've seen the Sound of Music too, you know," Elle recovered. "I'm Sister Mary Clarence. May we please come in?"

The guy looked rather reluctant to do so, but he nodded his head and opened the door a little wider to allow them entrance. Sam mentioned that he was sorry for their loss and Dean followed it up with something about difficult times being when the Lord's guidance is needed the most. This set the guy off. Apparently, he wasn't a very devout man and was just about ready to kick them out when Mrs. Miller intervened. She apologized for her brother-in-law and then asked them if they'd like some coffee to which Dean accepted for the three of them. As they followed Mrs. Miller, Dean whispered into Elle's ear.

"Can you be any more awkward?"

Elle jabbed her elbow into Dean's gut which made him grunt. Without even turning around, she gave a fake apology and then sat down on the couch. Dean, with a red face, sat beside her on the couch while Sam opted for the safer option of the armchair. Dean scooted to the edge of the couch to put as much distance between him and Elle as he could. Elle was about to make some sort of retort when Mrs. Miller walked back in the room with a coffee pot and mugs. She poured the coffee and handed each of them a mug. Elle didn't know how to tell the woman that she didn't like coffee unless it was one eighth coffee seven-eighths a delightfully flavored creamer. Instead, Elle accepted the mug and took tiny sips of the bitter-tasting liquid.

"It was wonderful of you all to stop by. The support of the church means so much right now," Mrs. Miller said, clearly meaning every word.

"Of course, after all, we are all God's children," Dean responded.

Mrs. Miller looked at Dean for a moment before she gave a half-smile and nodded her head. She then took the coffee pot and walked out of the living room as Dean snatched a cocktail wienie and chewed it contentedly. Sam and Elle looked to each other and shook their heads. Dean noticed because he questioned them with his mouth full of food.

"What?"

Just…tone it down a bit, Father," Sam said shaking his head.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked as he snatched another wienie.

"You're over-acting. But I suppose he does have a lot to make up for being the least religious of the three of us," Elle said. "He doesn't know how to act."

"I know how to act," Dean grumbled. "Honk if you love Jesus . . . and stuff."

"You're basing your religion off a bumper sticker? We're screwed."

Elle pretended to take another sip of the coffee as Mrs. Miller came back into the living room. She sat down on another armchair. Her stance was rather rigid and her facial expression was rather tired looking. Elle felt bad for the woman—grieving the loss of her husband. But she was also pretty sure that the woman was hiding something. Every family had something to hide. The Winchesters had to hide their lifestyle of hunting and killing the supernatural—the Millers were bound to be hiding something. They sat in silence for a moment before Dean broke it.

"So, Mrs. Miller, did your husband have a history of depression?" Dean asked which seemed to shock her.

"Nothing like that," Mrs. Miller responded, a little repulsed by his question. "We had our ups and downs like everyone but we were happy." By this point, Mrs. Miller had been reduced to tears. "I just don't understand…how could Jim do something like this?"

"I'm so sorry you had to find him like that," Sam said sympathetically.

"Actually, our son Max, he was the one who found him."

Elle looked into the dining room to find a young man, probably about Elle's age, maybe a little older, sitting in the corner, staring off into the blank space ahead of him. She made eye contact with Sam who nodded his head.

"Mrs. Miller, do you mind if the sister and I go talk to him?" Sam asked.

"Oh, thank you, Father. I'm worried about him," Mrs. Miller sighed, her eyes shining with tears.

Sam nodded his head and stood. Elle followed suit and followed Sam from the living room to the dining room. They probably shouldn't be leaving Dean all on his own to talk religion, but she and Sam were better at getting through to people with empathy rather than crude humor. As they approached, Max looked up at them with almost a deadness in his eyes. Sam introduced them to Max, who didn't appear to care.

"Max? Hey, I'm Sam and this is—uh—Mary."

Max didn't say anything, instead his gaze cast toward the ground. Elle took the opportunity to sit in the chair beside Max. He looked sideways at Elle and was obviously checking her out. Her insides told her that she wanted to smack the kid on the backside of the head for being a perv; but she was supposed to turn the other cheek, according to the Bible. So that's what she did…literally. She turned her cheek to look at Sam.

"You're too pretty to be a nun," Max said rather forwardly.

"He calls all sorts of people into his service and doesn't discriminate based on appearance," Elle commented, rather impressed with herself for coming up with something so believable so quick.

"So—uh—Max, we're sorry about your dad," Sam said changing the subject.

"Yeah, you and half the neighborhood," Max muttered.

"What was he like?" Elle asked regretfully looking back over at him to find him still looking at her.

"Just a normal dad, you know?" Max said putting his hand on Elle's knee which caused her face to flush and Sam's expression to harden.

"But you uh—live—at home now?" Elle said uncomfortably as she pushed his hand from her knee and made it look like she was changing her sitting position to cross her legs differently.

"Yeah. Trying to save up for school, but it's hard."

"Can't imagine why," Elle muttered.

"What was that?"

"I—uh—said that it's hard to imagine why. I'm sure a young man like you is—uh—" Elle stumbled uncomfortably.

"So, when you found your dad…" Sam interrupted, for which Elle was quite thankful.

"I woke up and heard the engine running," Max said slightly narrowing his eyes at Sam. "I don't know why he did it."

"We both know it's rough to lose a parent," Sam continued. "Especially when you don't have all the answers."

"But we'll certainly keep you in our prayers," Elle added before she abruptly stood up. "I need to use the ladies room, excuse me."

Elle practically ran back into the living room to ask Mrs. Miller where the restroom was located. Mrs. Miller told her that it was upstairs and Elle quickly walked away before Mrs. Miller could tell her that the bathroom was already occupied. Elle just needed to get away from Max for a moment. One thing was for certain—he was a messed up kid. As Elle got upstairs she found Dean attempting to hide a thermal scanner behind his back.

"Oh it's just you," Dean said breathing a sigh of relief.

"Find anything?" Elle asked Dean.

"Zip, you?" Dean responded.

"Nothing, except for the fact Max has the hots for Elle," Sam said suddenly standing behind his sister.

"I thought you were gonna punch him, for a moment there," Elle whispered.

"I would've if I wasn't impersonating man of the cloth."

"Can we please get out of here? I don't want him creepin' on me anymore otherwise I'll be tempted to kick him in the balls."

The Winchesters gave their condolences once more before they left. Elle could practically feel Max's eyes on her the entire time. She tried not to focus on him, but it bothered her that she just knew what he was doing. Elle stayed at the motel room with Dean while Sam went to check the local records. She knew that Sam could probably use the help, but she was still too pissed off to be of much help. She lay on her bed playing Pokemon while Dean cleaned some of the Winchester weapons.

"You shouldn't let him get to you," Dean commented.

"Who?" Elle questioned.

"Max. It's exactly what he wants—you to keep thinking about him."

"You would know."

"Elle, if you honestly think that I'm ever going to let that guy anywhere near you, then you obviously don't know me."

"I know that—but it doesn't mean that I have to like him doing what he's doing."

Dean remained quiet as he cleaned his sawed-off shotgun. Elle and Dean remained quiet until Sam finally got back.

"Please tell me you have something so this case can be over and we can get out of here," Elle groaned.

"Sorry—I got a whole lotta nothing. Nothing bad has happened in the Miller house since it was built," Sam said.

"What about the land then?" Dean asked.

"Nope," Sam sighed before he sat on his bed. "No graveyards, battlefields, tribal lands, or any other kind of atrocity on or near the property."

"I hate to say it, Sammy—but you know that I searched that house and didn't find anything. No cold spots, sulfur scent, Nadda."

"And the family claimed everything was normal."

"Aside from the creep's libido," Elle muttered.

"And we all know that if there was something, we would've picked up on something by now," Dean sighed.

"Does this mean we can get the hell outta Dodge?"

"Hang on a minute—so what, Jim Miller killing himself and my dream are some sorta freaking coincidence? Hell no. I know that neither of you believe in coincidences," Sam argued.

"Honestly, I dunno, Sam; but what I do know is that I'm pretty sure there's nothing supernatural about that house," Dean said putting his foot down.

"Yeah, well, maybe it has nothing to do with the house," Sam groaned as he rubbed his temples before he took a deep breath and held his head "Maybe it's just…gosh…maybe it's connected to Jim in some other way."

Elle tossed her Gameboy aside as she ran to Sam's side who held his head and sank slowly to the floor. Elle held onto Sam as he leaned heavily against her. By this point, Dean had come over to them and grabbed Sam's arm to take some of the weight off little Elle. Both Dean and Elle called Sam's name, trying to get him to focus on them, but Sam just stared blankly at Elle. She gently slapped at his face with her uninjured hand but he just continued to stare for a few moments. When he finally came back, he was breathing heavily and said that someone was going to kill Roger Miller. Elle looked to Dean—neither were happy about this development, but they had to check it out. Especially, with Sam's last vision being right. Dean and Elle quickly helped Sam to his feet before they helped him out into the Impala. Dean quickly pulled out of the parking lot as Sam called information to get Roger Miller's address. Elle wrote the address down onto one of her doodle pages so they wouldn't forget it. Dean kept looking over at Sam who didn't look like he felt too well.

"You ok?" Dean asked

"Yeah," Sam said exhaling slowly.

"If you're gonna hurl I'll pull the car over, you know, cause the upholstery…"

"Way to be an ass," Elle scoffed. "More worried about Baby than your brother."

"I was joking…sorta."

"Guys, I'm fine. Just drive," Sam said.

"Sam," Elle sighed as she reached her hand out to touch Sam, whose face seemed unusually hot to the touch. "You're burning up."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

"You're right; I'm scared as hell, guys. These nightmares weren't bad enough, but now I'm seeing things when I'm awake. And these…visions…or whatever, they're getting more intense and painful."

"C'mon man, you'll be all right. It'll be fine," Dean said.

"Dean," Elle chided. "He's…"

"Fine. He's going to be fine."

"I just don't get it," Sam groaned. "What is it about the Millers? Why am I connected to them? Why am I watching them die? Why the hell is this happening to me?"

"Don't you dare give some smart-alecky comment, Dean," Elle hissed.

"Back off, Elle. I was going to say that we'll figure it out. We always do. We've faced the unexplainable every day and this is just another thing," Dean snapped.

"This is different, Dean," Sam argued. "It's never been us. It's never been in the family like this. Tell the truth, you can't tell me this doesn't freak you out."

Dean stared straight ahead at the road for a few moments, leaving the car in silence before he finally answered.

"It doesn't freak me out."

All three of them knew that what came out of Dean's mouth was a lie—but it was a necessary lie. A lie that was needed for them to keep going, but it didn't mean that Elle liked it. They approached Roger's apartment building just as he was returning with a bag of groceries in his arms. Sam called to him, but this only pissed the man off—complaining that they should leave him alone as he walked away. Dean gunned the engine and quickly pulled a u-turn before pulling the car beside the curb. Sam jumped out of the car before Dean could even put the car in park, but Roger refused to listen. Instead, he walked right into his building and told them that he didn't want their kind of help before he disappeared. The Winchesters tried to convince him that they weren't with the church and that he was in danger, but he didn't return to them.

Dean then led them around to the corner of the building to try the back entrance, but it was securely locked. Elle looked to see if anyone was watching as Dean kicked it open. Sam ran in first followed by Elle. He practically climbed a wall to get up higher. Elle hated these kinds of jobs because she couldn't climb worth shit. She reached up for Sam as Dean suddenly lifted her up higher. Sam took hold of her hands as she used her feet to scale the wall while Dean used the fence to help him get up higher. They finally found the fire escape which they began to climb toward Roger's apartment. They were so close to the guy's apartment when the window slid down and sliced Roger's head off. His head lay in the flower bed under the window. Elle's hands flew to her face, but she hit her nose hard with her cast causing her nose to start to bleed profusely. Her blood dripped onto the fire escape and into the flower bed. Dean hissed at her to cover her nose with her sweatshirt and not to get her blood anywhere else. Sam and Dean began to clean up what they could—wiping their fingerprints from the scene as Elle quickly went back to the car careful not to touch anything or drip her blood anywhere else. She really hoped that they cleaned up all her blood or that forensics didn't recognize a second blood-type on the scene because otherwise she'd be royally screwed. Although, she wasn't sure that she technically existed in the system, but that was beside the point. Elle waited in the car for her brothers to return. Sam was the first to return and Dean wasn't far behind him.

"Fine anything?" Elle asked still holding her nose.

"Nothing—no signs either, just like the Miller's house," Dean responded.

"Well, I saw something, in the vision. Like a dark shape. Something was…something was stalking Roger," Sam said.

"A supernatural stalker? That's great. It better not be a friggin' shifter," Elle groaned.

"Shifter's wouldn't connect themselves to a family. Besides, we haven't seen any evidence of one."

"But now the question becomes, what latches onto families and follows them for years?" Dean questioned.

"Angiak, Banshees…." Sam listed.

"Basically like a curse. Maybe Roger and Jim Miller got involved in something heavy, something curse worthy."

"And now it's out for revenge and the men of their family are dying. Do you think Max is in danger?"

"I hope so," Elle muttered. "He's a creep."

"Elle, this is serious. It's our job to protect innocent people."

"He's hardly innocent."

"Innocent of our world."

"How about we quit arguing and figure this out before anyone else is in danger," Dean groaned.

"Fine," Elle muttered.

"Creep or no creep, Max doesn't deserve this. So we should go check on him and make sure he's safe."

Elle folded her arms across her chest as Dean put the Impala into drive. She leaned her head back against the seat and purposely kicked at the front seat to annoy her brothers; but they seemed to ignore it. Instead, Sam's spoke up on a completely different matter.

"Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people," Sam sighed.

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"Both our families are cursed."

"Our family's not cursed! We just…had our dark spots," Dean started. "And Elle."

"Hey!" Elle hissed.

"Yeah, but our dark spots are…pretty dark," Sam groaned.

"You're…dark," was Dean's lame response.

"Someone's losing his touch," Elle remarked. "Oh wait, you never had one to begin with."

"You shut your mouth."

Dean drove back to the motel to pick up their priestly garb. He and Sam changed quickly, but Elle just shoved hers in her duffel bag which she carried back to the car with her. Sam looked at her oddly, but he didn't question it. In fact, neither of the Winchester brothers questioned what she was doing until they pulled in front of the Miller's house.

"I'm staying in the car," Elle stated.

"What? Why?" Dean questioned. "I thought we were in agreement that we need to help Max."

"Which is why I'm staying in the car. He'll be too busy trying to cop a feel to give you anything useful."

"Or he could be more uncooperative without you," Sam said.

"I've thought of that too. You see, there are these handy dandy things called cellphones and maybe you don't know this, but there is this new feature called texting. It sends me a message almost instantaneously. I know—hard to believe, but I promise you it's the truth."

"Someone needs to lay off the sarcasm," Dean scoffed.

"I'll try. Now, off you go. Look both ways before crossing the street."

Dean rolled his eyes at Elle before he and Sam walked toward the Miller's house. Elle watched from the backseat as Max met them at the door and let them inside. He looked around a moment, almost as if he were looking for her, but she ducked lower onto the seat. The next time she poked her head up, there was no one at the front door. Elle breathed a sigh of relief before she pulled her sketchbook out of her bag. She flipped through the pages until she came to a blank page and started to draw. She wasn't entirely sure what she was drawing, instead she just let her pencil guide her. By the time she was done—she could see what the picture was beginning to look like: a lake scene. Angered, she tore the page from her sketchbook and crumpled it before tossing it onto the floor. She didn't want those memories being brought back up again…especially with what was happening with Sam. To distract herself, Elle began singing any and every song that Dean would hate while she waited for her brothers. About an hour later, Sam and Dean finally returned to the Impala.

"How was your friend, Max?" Elle asked sarcastically.

"He apologized for coming off so strong," Sam said. "Said he wasn't in his right mind and that he'd like the chance to apologize to you in person."

"No, he didn't," Elle scoffed. "He's lying, right?"

"He's telling the truth," Dean said. "Only because Sam mentioned something about confession being good for the soul otherwise he should fear his soul being damned or something like that."

"You coerced it out of him, doesn't count."

"Elle, the guy's dad just died and now his uncle. Sometimes guys grieve differently," Sam offered.

"It doesn't give him a free pass to be a perv. But fine, I'll let him apologize to me and if he tries anything else, I will seriously kick your ass."

"I wouldn't believe her," Dean said.

"Which part?" Sam asked.

"Her letting him apologize. I can so see her kicking your ass."

"Funny."

"Anything else we should discuss?" Elle asked. "You know, maybe what you guys found out?"

"That's just the thing—you'd know if you came inside," Dean said.

"Really? You're gonna play that game?"

"You're the one that started it. I'm just playing by your rules."

"Buttmunch."

"Max sounded scared when we talked about his old house," Sam responded.

"Sam," Dean groaned.

"We're going to need her help, man."

"Fine, but I agree about Max. No one's family is normal and happy—meaning he's hiding something."

"I could've told you that like yesterday," Elle retorted.

"Good for you. So we're gonna go find the old neighborhood and find out what life was really like for the Millers."

"This is gonna be fun," Elle said sarcastically.

After about a twenty minute drive, Dean stopped the Impala. The three Winchesters got out of the car and walked on the sidewalk until they ran into a man who was doing some yard work in his front yard. The man waved at them, not expecting the Winchesters to actually approach him.

"What can I do for you three?" the man asked.

"Have you lived in the neighborhood very long?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, almost twenty years now. It's nice and quiet. Why you looking to buy?"

"No, no, actually we were wondering if you might recall a family that used to live right across the street I believe."

"Name was Miller. Jim and his wife had a son Max," Dean said.

"Yeah, I remember. The brother had the place next door. So uh—what's this about, is that poor kid ok?" the man asked.

"Poor kid?" Elle questioned.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

Elle listened as the man described the physical abuse Max went through at the hand of his father and even his uncle. The thought made Elle sick to her stomach. No wonder he didn't know how to interact with her—he'd never been given a chance to properly grow up. For a moment, she was glad to have the father that she had. Granted, he ignored her most of the time and didn't treat her right—but the man rarely raised a hand against her and if he ever did—she downright deserved it. The guilt began to set-in. She had judged Max before she even knew anything about him. Sure, he had been creepy, but he didn't deserve her hatred. Her stomach fell even further when the man went on about Max's biological mother dying in some sort of accident. Elle was driven out of her thoughts by the sight of Sam clutching his head in pain. The man asked if he was okay as Dean and Elle both moved to Sam's sides to help him back to the Impala. They were at least behind a bush out of the man's line of sight when Sam began seeing things.

"This isn't good, Dean," Elle whispered.

"I know that, Elle," Dean responded.

"This is the third one in the span of…"

"I know."

"Aren't you…"

"Not helping, Elle."

Elle looked at Dean who wore a stony expression on his face. He was clearly trying to keep it together for all their sakes. When Sam finally came back to reality he struggled to catch his breath. Elle and Dean looked to him anxiously waiting for more information.

"It's Max. He's been doing everything I've been seeing," Sam said breathlessly. "He's going after Mrs. Miller."

"Just when I started feeling sorry for the guy," Elle muttered. "Now he turns out to be some raving psycho."

"He's not a psycho," Sam snapped.

"He killed his dad, uncle, and is moving onto his stepmother. What else should I call him?"

"Confused. Scared. Hurt."

"We're not talking about you."

"You're sure it's Max?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I saw him this time," Sam groaned as he rubbed his face.

"How's he pulling it off?"

"I don't know, like telekinesis?"

"So what he's psychic? A spoon bender?"

"I didn't even realize it but whole time he was there. He was outside the garage when his dad died, he was in the apartment when his uncle died. These visions, this whole time—I wasn't connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max! The thing is I don't get why? Is it because we're so alike?"

"What are you talking about? The dude's nothing like you."

"We both have psychic abilities, we both…"

"You're always going to be able to find similarities with someone if you think hard enough about it," Elle argued. "You're not as alike as you're assuming. Trust me. He's the monster, not you."

"But it makes sense given his situation: the beatings, to want revenge on those people. I'm sorry, but I hate to say it, it's not that insane."

"Yeah, but it doesn't justify murdering your entire family," Dean argued.

"Dean. Elle?"

"I agree with, Dean," Elle sighed. "We've been through a crap-ton of shit and none of us have gone on a family killing rampage. He has."

"Meaning that he's no different than anything else we've hunted, all right? We gotta end him," Dean said.

"No, we're not killing Max," Sam huffed.

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Elle asked.

"I haven't thought that far yet."

"How about we hand him over to the cops and say 'Lock him up officer, he kill with the power of his mind,'" Dean scoffed.

"No way. Forget it."

"Sam," Elle sighed.

"Guys, trust me on this. I can talk to him. Just promise me that you'll both follow my lead on this one."

"All right fine, but I'm not letting him hurt anybody else," Dean grumbled.

"Why is it always the monsters that are attracted to me? What exactly does that say about me? Can't I ever just have a normal guy like me?" Elle groaned.

Dean pulled up in front of the Miller's house. Elle watched as Sam got out of the car, Dean reached in the glove compartment for his pistol. Elle followed suit and reached for her gun that she had stashed under the seat. She put it in her bag before she swung the bag over her shoulders and followed Dean up the walkway to the house. She couldn't be too careful, especially given after how the guy acted around her the day before. The Winchesters stopped just outside the door. Dean counted down from three before he opened the door, swinging it hard before all three Winchesters burst inside. Mrs. Miller and Max were surprised to see them. Max gave Elle a look over once—almost as if he were having déjà vu. But when he came to his senses, he asked them what they were doing there. Sam responded that they needed to talk to his mother. Max seemed to agree, reluctantly…but then something set him off. Elle wasn't sure what it was but next thing she knew the front door slammed shut and so did the wooden window blinds throughout the house.

"You're not priests!" Max shouted.

"This can't be good," Elle whispered.

Elle watched as Dean drew his gun, but somehow Max managed to make the gun fly out of Dean's hands and across the floor. Elle tried to move, but Max had her practically frozen in place. Her eyes widened in fright as she felt her chest constrict. There was no telling what Max was capable of or what he was going to do. Max's mother asked him what he was doing when using his power he flung her backwards. She hit her head against the counter and was knocked unconscious. Sam pleaded with Max to calm down, claimed that they just wanted to talk. He then asked about the gun Dean had—that's what must've set him off. Elle just hoped that he didn't find the gun she had hidden in her bag. Sam then went on to explain that he had visions about Max—something Max didn't really believe.

"You're crazy," Max scoffed.

"So what, you weren't gonna launch a knife at your stepmom? Right here?" Sam said pointing to his eye. "Is it that hard to believe Max, I mean, look what you can do. Max, I was drawn here, right? I think I'm here to help you."

"No one can help me!" Max cried.

"Let me try. We'll just talk, you and me. We'll get Dean, Elle, and Alice out of here."

"No way in hell," Dean hissed.

The chandelier about them began to shake as Max shouted that no one was leaving the house. Sam, trying to calm him down, said that nobody had to leave—that the others would just go upstairs. Dean did not like this and made his opinion rather vocal. As much as Elle hated to admit it, she was fine with going upstairs—well, that was until she became a bargaining chip.

"Five minutes, but she stays," Max said pointing at Elle.

"That offer's not on the table," Sam said.

"Then I'm not talking."

"Max, c'mon man."

"Sam, I'll do it," Elle said surprising herself. "If it will get him to see reason, I'll do it. I won't like it, but I'll do it."

"No!" Dean hissed.

"Fine, she stays; but you don't lay a hand on her or I will hurt you," Sam said.

"Deal, but I'd like to see you try," Max scoffed.

The chandelier stopped shaking before Max yelled at Dean to get his stepmother upstairs. Dean was reluctant to leave his two baby siblings downstairs, but he didn't really have a choice if they wanted to avoid a bloodbath. Elle looked to Dean who made eye contact with her before looking down to her bag and then back to her face. She knew what he was getting at and she nodded her head. He was telling her that if she had a chance to take the shot—she should. Elle walked closer to Sam and Max began to circle them—but Sam was careful to keep himself between Max and Elle.

"Like I said earlier, I knew you were too hot to be nun. I saw you," Max said.

"You have eyes, so I assumed you could," Elle said sarcastically.

"Not with my eyes. In my mind. You were wearing what you're wearing now and you and I… well, let's just say we had some fun."

"I'm going to stop this wet dream before it goes any further."

"It wasn't a dream. It was a vision. It's going to happen because I already saw it."

"No, it's not," Elle muttered.

"Why don't we get a little more comfortable and sit down," Sam suggested.

"You only got four minutes now," Max said as he sat down on the armchair.

Sam held onto Elle's arm as they sat down beside each other on the couch. Elle clung tightly to Sam's arm as Max stared at a letter opener and began to move it with his mind—twirling it slowly. Sam however seemed confident when he spoke, attempting to empathize with Max; but Max wasn't having any of it. He was still bitter about the past and rightfully so. While Elle didn't say anything, being bitter about the past was something she understood especially when it came to her relationship with John Winchester. For so long she had thought that it was her fault that he ignored her—it was her fault that he didn't love her, until she finally came to the realization that he was an ass. But killing him had never been an option her mind—it just wasn't. Elle jumped back to the present conversation when Max stood up and lifted his shirt revealing a fresh set of bruises on his chest and side. Elle was so torn between being pissed or saddened by Max's situation—but she knew that there were better ways to deal with the situation.

"I'm sorry that you went through what you did, but that doesn't make this right," Elle said finally speaking up.

"I'm just righting a few wrongs," Max said. "When I first found out I could move things it was a gift. My whole life I was helpless but now I had this. So last week Dad gets drunk for the first time in a long time. And he beats me to hell, first time in a long time. And then I knew what I had to do."

"Why didn't you just leave?" Sam asked.

"It wasn't about getting away. Just knowing they would still be out there. It was about…not being afraid. When my dad used to look at me, there was hate in his eyes. Do you know what that feels like?"

"No," Sam said.

"Yes," Elle whispered knowing that maybe, just maybe she could get through to Max long enough to take him out.

"So you of all people should get it," Max hissed.

"Dad doesn't hate you," Sam argued.

"How would you know? You haven't been around? You haven't seen the looks he gives me…he blames me for everything!" Elle continued knowing that this was hurting Sam that she was starting to side with Max in a sense.

"You do understand, don't you?" Max questioned.

"Yes," Elle whispered.

"My father blamed me for everything too. For his job, for his life, for my mom's death…"

"Me too."

"Why would he blame you for your mom's death?" Sam asked.

"Because she died in my nursery while I was asleep in my crib. As if that makes if my fault," Max scoffed.

Elle looked up to Max and then to Sam…maybe there was more to this connection Sam had mentioned than she originally thought.

"She died in your nursery?" Sam asked slowly, in shock.

"There was a fire. And he'd get drunk and babble on like she died in some insane way. He said that she burned up pinned to the ceiling!" Max scoffed.

There was no more doubt in Elle's mind—there definitely was a connection. Sam must have been sure of it as well because he then began to play that angle while talking with Max, telling him that the same thing happened when he was a baby. But Max still wasn't buying anything that Sam was selling. So, Sam tried yet another angle.

"This must be why I'm having visions during the day. Why they're getting more intense, cause you and I must be connected in some way. Your abilities, they started 6-7 months ago, right, out of the blue?"

"How'd you know that?" Max questioned.

"That's when my abilities started Max. Yours seem to be much further along, but still, this has to mean something right? I mean for some reason, you and I…you and I were chosen."

"Then if you two were chosen, I've got to mean something," Elle said adding in her two cents trying to still prove her worth and trust to Max to seal the deal. "I mean—I should've died in that fire, but here I am."

"Elle, you're not a part of this," Sam hissed.

"Yes, I am!"

"I don't care right now who's a part of this—it still doesn't explain how the hell you can help me," Max interrupted.

"Elle, Dean, and I—we're hunting for our mom's killer. We can find answers, answers that can help us all; but you gotta let us go Max," Sam said. "And your stepmother."

Elle knew that Sam had lost Max after he mentioned his stepmother. Max began to shake his head and shout. Shouting about wanting revenge and wanting it to all be over. Sam tried to calm him, but it didn't do anything because next thing Elle knew was that Max used his powers to fling Sam backwards into the closet. With his mind, Max slammed the door and moved a tall and heavy bookshelf in front of the door. Elle moved to run for Sam as she yelled Dean's name, but she was flung toward the front door which she hit her head on, but not hard enough to lose consciousness. Max walked over to her and roughly yanked her by her arm with her cast on it into a standing position.

"I have some unfinished business to take care of before we can take care of our business," Max said. "Don't worry, it shouldn't take long."

"No, please don't do this," Elle pleaded. "Don't hurt my brothers."

"As long as they don't do anything stupid, they won't be hurt, sweetheart."

"I can tell you right now that Dean's going to do something stupid."

"Then you might have something to worry about."

Using his mind, Max caused Dean's gun to fly into his hands before he pressed it against Elle's back.

"Now, be a good girl," Max whispered into Elle's ear as he sniffed her hair. "We'll have time for naughty later."

Elle felt the gun jab her in the back. He wanted her to walk up the stairs. She slowly walked up the stairs as he kept the gun aimed at her. Elle wanted to reach for her gun, but there was no way she'd be fast enough. She needed to distract him somehow. But she didn't have time as Max jabbed the gun into her back telling her to open the door. She slowly turned the door handle. Dean saw her and said her name before he moved to run for her. He didn't get very far before Max sent Dean flying into a wall. Mrs. Miler called his name which caused him to physically push Elle to the side so that she wasn't in the way of his shot. Max raised Dean's pistol at his stepmother, his hands shaking. Dean slowly got to his feet and looked to Elle who nodded her head that she was fine—so Dean stepped between the gun that was now floating in midair and Mrs. Miller.

"Stay back, this is not about you," Max hissed.

"You wanna kill her, you're gonna have to go through me first," Dean said.

"Ok."

"Wait, Max!" Elle called.

Max turned to look at her with surprise in his eyes.

"Why make this easy for her?" Elle said coldly. "Make her suffer for a bit before doing it. Let's give her a show, it's what I'd want to do to my dad."

"What exactly are you implying?" Max asked.

Elle then flung her arms around Max and roughly pressed her lips against his. While she wasn't the most experienced at such things, it was obvious that Max had even less experience than she did. His kisses were very sloppy and he had bad breath. But while she engaged him an intense and disgusting make-out session, Elle slowly reached with her good hand into her bag to grab her revolver. When she had in her hand and was about ready to pull the trigger, Max pushed her away causing to stumble back a few steps.

"I was really hoping you weren't going to do this part," Max said.

Max then pulled the trigger of Dean's gun. Elle felt the bullet tear through her skin and through organs that were probably very vital. She clutched her stomach before she began to cough. Blood poured from her mouth and she looked toward Dean.

"I'm sorry," Elle said as blood dripped down her body from the wound and from her mouth. "Tell Sam…"

Elle then fell to the ground unable to finish her sentence, not moving or breathing—her body no longer functioning. Dean then moved to lunge at the asshole who just killed his sister before the floating pistol shot him in the head, causing his body to crash heavily to the ground. Two Winchesters lay dead on the ground while Sam Winchester was trapped in the closet.

Sam suddenly came back to reality and breathed heavily, gasping for air. It had all been a vision. A vision that he needed to stop—a vision that could hopefully stop before it came true. He shouted in panic and suddenly, but what surprised him most was the sound of the bookcase moving away from the door. He simply turned the handle of the door and was able to open it, normally. There was no way in hell that Sam was going to lose both of his siblings to this monster.

Elle was about to press her lips against Max's when the door burst open, revealing Sam standing there. She quickly backed away from Max and into Dean who wrapped his arms tightly around his little sister. Sam tried to plead with Max one last time. He told Max that they could help him, but that killing people wasn't the solution. It wasn't going to fix anything. Max must've realized what a mess he was: shaking, sweaty, and in tears. He stared at Sam for a moment before he looked back at Elle who clung tightly to her oldest brother's arms. Max looked back at Sam once again and told Sam that he was right. Sam thought he had gotten through to him, but Elle could hardly believe her eyes as the floating gun turned toward Max. It all happened so fast, but next thing she knew a bullet had gone through Max's head and his blood had splattered all over her.

"I think I'm gonna puke," Elle muttered.

True to her word, Elle bent over and hurled as Dean tried to hold her hair back for her. When she had practically puked her guts out, Elle then ran to the bathroom and tried to clean all the blood off her; but it only seemed to smear more and more all over her. She screamed in frustration. She didn't want this creep's blood over her. Mrs. Miller appeared in the doorway, with a little blood splatter, but not as much as Elle.

"You can take a shower if you like. Towels are in closet."

Mrs. Miller's words sounded hollow, but Elle decided to take the woman up on her offer. Elle quickly hopped in the shower, not even bothering to cover her cast. She just wanted to get the blood off her. She could hear the police sirens coming closer to the house. Elle knew that they weren't going to like that she was washing evidence off her, but she didn't care. She needed him off her. She had let him somewhat get to her—played his mind games. She wanted to forget Max Miller even existed. Her thoughts then turned to Sam. Would Sam turn out like that? Would she? A knock came at the door. It was a police officer asking her to step out of the shower because they needed her downstairs with the others. Elle called that she needed to get dressed first. Elle pulled on her blood spattered jeans, but was thankful that her sweatshirt had mostly spared her t-shirt. She left her sweatshirt which was drenched in blood on the floor because there was no way in hell those stains were coming out and Elle if she ever wore that article of clothing again, she'd only be reminded where the stains came from.

Elle walked out of the bathroom with her hair dripping wet. It soaked her shirt so that her bra was basically visible through her shirt, but there wasn't anything she could really do about that now. The police officer escorted her downstairs where Mrs. Miller sat with Sam, Dean, and another officer. Dean noticing Elle's wet shirt and her shivering tossed her an afghan from the couch which she wrapped herself with before she walked to stand between her brothers. The cop began questioning Mrs. Miller about what happened.

"Max attacked me. He threatened me with a gun," Mrs. Miller stated.

"And these three?" the cop asked.

"They're…family friends. I called them as soon as Max arrived, I was scared. They tried to stop him. They fought him for the gun."

"Where did Max get the gun?"

They all knew where the gun had come from: Dean; but Mrs. Miller began sobbing, saying that she didn't know where he had gotten it from. That he had just showed up with it. The cop moved to comfort the woman, but she held herself and sobbed that she had lost everyone. The cop then told the Winchesters that they would call if there were any further questions. Dean thanked the officer before the Winchesters walked outside toward Impala. Elle realized that she still had Mrs. Miller's afghan, but Dean told her not to bring it back because it would just bring up bad memories. Elle didn't want it either—so she tossed it into the closest trash bin while Sam and Dean continued toward the Impala. She met them back at the car, with her arms folded across her chest—shivering.

"Well, I'll tell you one thing," Sam said. "We're lucky that we had Dad."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that," Dean said sounding slightly pleased.

"Well, you're in for another shocker because I agree," Elle said. "Don't get me wrong. I still think the guy's an ass, a big fat douche canoe of an ass, but it could've been a whole lot worse—you know, physical."

"I don't know that my heart can handle any more love," Dean joked.

"But seriously man, it coulda gone a whole other way after Mom. I little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we woulda had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out ok. Thanks to him," Sam said.

"I don't know that it's all because of him for me—but I'll admit he at least played a part. But like I said he's still…" Elle started.

"An ass, yeah, I heard you the first time…but all things considered," Dean sighed.

The Winchesters went back to their motel and immediately began packing. They wanted to get out of town before the cops decided that they did have more questions that they wanted to ask. Elle quickly packed her duffel bag before she brought it out to the car. Sam was already out there putting his bag in the car. Elle sighed before she threw her bag beside his. Sam looked at her for a moment before he spoke.

"Did you really mean what you said about you being involved in all this?" Sam said.

"It was more on the spot thinking," Elle said. "I was trying to get him to relate to me; but I think part of it actually got to me for a while there."

"Me too."

"Do you think I'm part of this?"

"I don't know. I don't even know what this is."

"Me either. I'm gonna check the motel room one last time to make sure I didn't forget anything and then check out."

"But Elle…"

"Yeah?"

"Whatever the hell this is, doesn't change the fact that you're my little sister and I will do anything to protect you."

"Right back at you—except for the part of you being my little sister. You're more like a big sister, Samantha," Elle teased.

Elle went back inside the motel room and did one look over to see if she had forgotten anything. Good thing she did, because she found her stolen Gameboy lying on the floor. She picked it up and put it into her jacket pocket before she took the keys and told Dean she was going to go check them out. Checking out wasn't a difficult process. You returned the key, made sure everything was paid for, and then went on your merry way. When Elle walked back toward the Impala, she was slightly surprised to see that her brothers weren't in the car yet. They were standing in the doorway of the motel room. Elle approached them and leaned against the doorframe to enter in their conversation.

"Aren't you worried man? Worried that I could turn into Max or something?" Sam asked.

Kinda, Elle thought, but that wasn't what Dean answered.

"Nope. No way. You know why?" Dean said.

"No. Why?" Sam questioned.

"Cause you've got one advantage Max didn't have."

"Dad? Because in case you haven't noticed Dean, Dad's not here."

"No. Me," Dean said smirking. "As long as I'm around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you."

"Then you better make that two reasons," Elle said making her presence known. "I mean, I did almost kiss that monster for you. If that doesn't tell you how much I love you then…"

"Don't go all chick-flick on us," Dean groaned.

"But it's so fun to see how much it annoys you."

"Whatever. But I know what we need to do about these premonitions, Sammy. I know where we have to go."

"Where?" Sam asked.

"Vegas."

"I don't know why I thought he was actually gonna be serious for once in his life," Elle scoffed.

Sam shook his head walked out the door past Elle and to the Impala. Dean stood there with his hands raised slightly in defense.

"I am being serious! C'mon, guys! Craps tables—we'd clean up!"

Elle chuckled as Dean picked up his duffel and walked to where his little sister was standing on the threshold. Dean ruffled his little sister's hair before he looked out at Sam who opened the car door and got in the front seat of the Impala before shutting the door behind him.

"You're worried about him, aren't you?" Elle asked.

"I'm always worried about the two of you," was all Dean muttered before he closed the door behind him. "It's in the job description."

Elle slowly followed Dean back to the car until she stopped when she felt a buzzing coming from her pocket. She pulled out her phone to notice that it was Dad calling her. Why the hell was he calling her? She looked at her phone before looking up to her brothers. She had two options: answer or ignore and for the first time in her life, she intentionally ignored John Winchester and it felt so good. She deserved this much didn't she? He ignored her—so why couldn't she ignore him. Besides, if it was something life or death important he'd call back, right? Well, unless he had gotten himself into a bind, but Elle refused to think that John Winchester wasn't capable of taking care of himself. With a sigh, Elle slipped her phone back into her pocket and climbed into the Impala. Dean turned his classic rock music up a little louder and the Winchesters got the hell out of Saginaw.


	16. The Benders

*Warning—this is "The Benders" after all: mentions of cannibalism*

The crisp Minnesota wind stung at Elle's rosy cheeks as she sat outside on a swing beside a young girl named Adria McKay. Adria was only five years old and a cute little thing. The little girl twisted on her own swing beside the youngest Winchester. Elle was supposed to be keeping young Adria occupied while her brother Evan talked to Sam and Dean about something he had spooky with his mother present. Honestly, she didn't mind the task. Adria just babbled on about something or another and Elle would just nod her head and smile as she adjusted the state police jacket she was wearing. Elle was twisting on her swing when Adria jumped off her swing and walked over to stand in front of Elle's swing. Adria made a comment about how they weren't allowed to twist on the swings which made Elle stop before she cleared her throat and looked right at the little girl.

"Are you gonna take Evan to jail?" Adria asked before staring at Elle, demanding an answer.

"Uh—why do you ask?" Elle questioned.

"Because he was naughty."

"Yeah, brothers can be like that."

"No, he did something really really really bad."

"What'd he do?"

"He putted boogers in my hair. Mommy telled him not to do that. She said if he ever did it again he'd be in big big trouble."

"I'm not sure this is the big trouble she was talking about. Your brother's just talking to mine-my—uh—my friends in there."

"Because of the scary truck?"

"Wh—what?"

"The scary truck."

"I thought you were asleep when everything happened."

Adria looked rather sheepish before she climbed up the rock climb wall and into the top fort. Elle groaned before she ran her fingers through her hair and stood up. She followed the little girl who was sitting in the corner with her knees up, hiding her face. Elle gently placed a hand on the girl's arm which made Adria look up at her, with a somewhat scared expression. Elle just smiled at the little girl which seemed to calm the younger girl

"Were you awake?" Elle whispered.

"Don't tell Mommy," Adria whispered back before holding up her little finger. "Pinky promise."

"My pinky promises. So, why were you up?"

"Evan letted me watch his Dogzilla movie wif him."

Godzilla, Elle mentally corrected.

"And then it getted to a scary part so he telled me to go to bed. I seed the scary truck out my window."

"What can you tell me about the truck?"

"It was scary."

"Anything else?"

Mrs. McKay called for Adria to come inside. Adria looked at Elle and shook her head before the little girl held up her pinky and slid down the slide. Elle looked at her options to get down: go back down the rock climb wall or slide. Elle followed Adria's suit and went down the slide. She gasped in surprise when her ass went into a puddle at the end of the slide. Elle noticed Adria's bottom was quite dry as she ran back toward the house which Elle grumbled about as she stood and tried to wipe the wet spot on her ass. She had just been outsmarted by a five year old. Elle walked awkwardly back to the house with a wet spot on her pants. Dean must have noticed because he stood on the deck with his hand covering what was obviously a smile. Elle shot him a glare before she walked up the stairs and past him back into the house.

The Winchesters thanked Mrs. McKay for taking up some of her time before Sam suggested that it was time for them to go. Elle agreed but when she looked to Adria the little girl held up her pinky once more to which mouthed the word maybe which made Adria's blue eyes widen. This made Elle smirk before she followed Sam out the door and Dean followed behind her. Dean must've noticed her wet spot again because when they were on the sidewalk Dean started laughing before Elle turned around and glared at him.

"You got played by a five year old," Dean laughed.

"Keep up the ass act and I won't tell you what she told me," Elle retorted.

"Because hearing how she got macaroni stuck up her nose is important."

"It wasn't stuck for long. It came out when she sneezed."

"Exactly my point."

"Fine, then I'll just tell Sam what she saw after Evan made her go to bed at a scary part during Dogzilla."

"She saw something?" Sam asked.

"Oh yeah, but I'll let you know when Dean takes a potty break."

"She's five. She's probably playing you like she just did on the slide," Dean scoffed.

"And this is why you're not worthy of me breaking a pinky promise for."

Elle opened the door to the Impala and slid into the backseat as usual. Sam and Dean were discussing something or another outside, but all Elle could think of was getting out of her wet pants so she looked outside carefully to make sure that no one besides her brothers were around before she pulled the uncomfortable wet pants off. Sitting in her underwear, Elle dug on the floor for her ripped up jeans before pulling them on. She figured if she was already this far—she might as well at least finish. So, she pulled off the state police button-up starchy shirt. She was down to her plain nude bra when Dean got in the front seat and turned around to look at her. His facial expression was one of horror before he quickly turned around.

"Jeez," Dean groaned. "Warn a guy before you do something."

"I'm in my bra," Elle retorted. "It's no different than seeing a girl in a bikini and I know you've seen girls in less."

"You're my sister it's different."

"He has a point," Sam said holding his hands up as blinders.

"I'm decent you prudes," Elle said as she finished pulling her Cookie Monster t-shirt over her stomach.

"Says the virgin," Dean scoffed.

"Now you're really not getting that information."

"We'll see how you feel about that after a round or two."

"Trying to get me drunk—how original."

Dean shook his head and turned the key in the ignition causing the Impala to roar to life. Elle finished getting dressed as the car drove down the road. She pulled a blue flannel over her t-shirt and pulled her blue Converse shoes on. For a moment she questioned the fact that she was wearing all blue going into a bar. One time, she had worn a similar outfit a guy hit on her saying that she looked awfully blue but he could change that. Elle smirked remembering the fact that Dean had literally kicked the guy's ass after that. At least if Dean kicked some guy's ass again it would be entertaining. Sam turned around and asked for Dad's journal, which Elle pulled out of her bag and handed to her older brother. He began pouring over the journal as Dean scanned the area for a decent bar. Dean pulled into the parking lot of the first bar he found: Kugel's Keg.

The Winchesters easily found a table inside the establishment and Dean ordered a round of beers with their food. Elle eyed Dean suspiciously to which he shook his head. Sam pulled Dad's journal out and Elle reached into her bag to grab her Gameboy. Dean quickly snatched both and told them that they were going to have a normal meal before they got down to anymore business. Elle groaned as Dean pocketed her Gameboy and set Dad's journal on his lap. The waitress brought their beers and Elle switched her beer with Dean's just in case he had tried to switch something on her with the waitress. She slowly took a sip before she reached for the fork on table next to her arm. She put the non-eating side of the utensil down her cast and began to itch.

"I can't wait 'til this friggin' thing comes off," Elle groaned trying to itch inside her cast.

"It is about that time, isn't it?" Sam asked.

"I could take it off for you. I think we got a saw in the trunk," Dean said sipping his beer.

"There is no way in hell would that I trust you with a saw anywhere near any part of my body," Elle retorted.

"Me either," Sam chuckled. "Tomorrow, we'll see if Hibbing has a doctor that will remove it for you."

"And this is why Sam's my favorite brother," Elle said in a teasing manner.

"Then next time your ass needs saving, let's hope your favorite brother's there because I won't be," Dean responded.

"It was a joke, Dean," Elle scoffed.

"Mine too."

Elle crinkled her nose before she pulled the fork out of her cast before she threw it at Dean and it landed in his drink, causing the amber liquid to splash all over them. Dean swore and began wiping the drink off his leather jacket. Sam at least found it slightly amusing as he chuckled wiping the table off with a napkin.

"That was a waste of a perfectly good beer," Dean muttered.

"Sorry," Elle muttered.

"Would it hurt you to grow up a bit?"

"You know that I'm kinda stuck at this height."

"Not what I mean."

"Food's coming," Sam announced.

All the Winchesters sat up a little straighter to hide any evidence of an argument. Dean smiled as he thanked the waitress for their food and she responded with a smile back. Elle groaned at the thought of Dean deciding to get some action this evening—just hopefully it would be at the girl's place and not the motel room. Elle picked up a French fry and doused it with a decent amount of ketchup before she ate it. Surprisingly, dinner was a rather silent affair. The Winchesters didn't talk—instead, they just focused on eating their food. Dean was the first one to push away his empty plate away. He began to page through Dad's journal as Sam and Elle finished up eating. Elle couldn't finish all her fries, so she dumped them onto Dean's plate which he eagerly accepted and shoveled into his mouth.

"Gameboy me," Elle said holding her hand out.

"You're gonna have to play me for it," Dean said eating her last fry.

Dean pointed to the game of Darts on the wall before he handed Sammy Dad's journal. Elle groaned her brother's name. She knew she wasn't going to get her Gameboy back. She was dead-awful at Darts—and Dean knew it. Dean asked her if she was coming. Elle looked to Sam who only smiled up at her before he returned his attention to Dad's journal.

"I hate you both," Elle muttered.

Elle then jumped off the high stool before she walked over to where Dean stood with the darts in his hand. He handed her the darts she was supposed to play with. Dean ever-so kindly let her go first. Elle rolled her eyes at him because she knew that he was letting her go first because she was going to completely suck at this so he would get a decent laugh. She stood behind the line and held her hand with the dart up. She moved her hand forward and backward trying to line everything up but when she released the dart it veered too far to the right and flew into the bar area. Elle's hands flew over her mouth as a bartender looked confusedly at the dart that was now in his hand. Elle shouted an apology from across the bar before she ran over and took the dart back from him. Her face felt like it was on fire from embarrassment as she had now gained several of the guys' attention that were seated at the bar. Dean stood there and chuckled at her expense.

"What is wrong with you? How is it possible that you can shoot a gun but you can't aim a friggin' dart?" Dean questioned.

"I dunno, don't ask me. I was just born this way," Elle groaned. "There must be a dart throwing gene that skipped over me."

"The genes seemed to work out fine for me."

Dean threw his dart and it landed fairly close to the center.

"Shut up," Elle muttered.

Elle then lined up her next dart and released it. It actually landed where it was supposed to—somewhat.

"I got it on the board!" Elle squealed.

"Barely," Dean scoffed. "I bet if I went over there and blew on it, the thing would fall off."

"Don't you dare."

"Hey, guys, the local police have now ruled out foul play. Apparently, there are worse signs of a struggle," Sam said from the table.

"Well, they could be right. I could just be a kidnapping. Maybe this isn't our kind of gig," Dean said throwing his dart in the center circle.

"Maybe not, except Dad marked this area, Dean."

"Take your shot," Dean said to Elle.

Elle took her last shot which went into the wall beside the board before she walked over to the table.

"Dad seemed to think this place was the possible hunting grounds of a phantom attacker," Sam said.

"Now why would he do that?" Dean asked.

"I thought you didn't question what he did," Elle muttered which made Dean look at her pointedly. "What?"

"Anyway, he found a lot of local folklore about a dark figure that comes out at night, grabs people, and then vanishes," Sam started before he flipped to another page. "He found this too—this county has more missing persons per capita than anywhere else in the state."

"That is weird," Dean said.

"Yeah."

"But guys, don't phantom attackers usually snatch people from their beds?" Elle asked.

"Good point. Jenkins was taken from a parking lot," Dean responded.

"There are all kinds. You know, Springhill Jacks, phantom gassers—they take people anywhere, anytime," Sam added. "Guys, look, I don't know if this is our kind of gig either."

"I'm sensing a but," Elle sighed.

"Butt," Dean said with a smile before he continued after clearing his throat. "Yeah—we should ask around more tomorrow."

"What about this?" Elle asked holding up her cast.

"If we get up early enough we should be able to do both," Sam said. "I think I saw a motel about five miles back…"

"Whoa, whoa, easy there. Let's have another round," Dean said.

"Sam's right," Elle said. "We should get an early start tomorrow."

"You two really know how to have fun, don't you, Grandma and Grandpa? Should we pick up some Depends on our way?"

"I think I'll be fine, I didn't have my prune juice today."

Sam smiled and Dean shook his head before he spoke up again.

"All right, I'll meet ya'll outside. I gotta take a leak."

"That's what happened to my prune juice," Elle joked.

Dean didn't even respond to Elle's last crack at him. Instead he grabbed his coat and headed toward the bathroom. Elle grabbed her bag from the floor and swung it over her shoulder as Sam picked up Dad's journal and the other research papers. Together, Sam and Elle left Kugel's Keg and headed toward the Impala, but Sam stopped suddenly and put his hand out in front of his sister to stop her.

"You hear that?" Sam asked.

"Hear what?" Elle asked.

Sam shushed his sister before he set Dad's journal on the hood of the car. He pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and told Elle to stay where she was. Elle shifted rather uncomfortably. Did he really think that this phantom attacker was here with them? It was too much of a coincidence, but if Sam was on edge, she knew that she should at least be cautious. Sam got down on the ground to look under the car with his flashlight. Elle stood there watching and holding her breath. Next thing she knew, there was a hissing sound and a cat bolted out toward Sam from under the car. Sam swore rather loudly before he hit his head against the car. Elle laughed at him as she bent down to pick the cat up.

"You got scared shitless by a cat," Elle laughed as she stood up with the cat in her arms. "Good kitty, you ferocious beast, you."

"Shut up, Elle," Sam groaned.

"You think Dean will let me keep him?"

"I think you know the answer to that."

"That's too bad. I would've named you Dobby and given you a sock."

By this point Sam was finally back on his feet. Elle stood there holding the cat and petting it as it purred in her arms. This made her smile. She then looked around and in the distance she saw a rather creepy-looking truck parked in the back corner of the lot. Creepy truck. Scary truck. Unintentionally, she clutched the cat a little tighter.

"Sam—I…" Elle started.

But it was too late. Sam was somehow brought to the ground and it all happened so fast. Someone came up from behind and tightly placed a cloth over Elle's mouth and face. The cat jumped from her arms which she then tried to use to get the cloth over her face—which she was pretty sure had chloroform on it. She tried to fight, but it was no use. In a matter of seconds, Elle blacked out and went limp in her attacker's arms. The cat then began to hiss but a big clunky boot kicked him away. A disheveled man in his twenties held Elle in his arms and just stared at her for a few moments.

"Put her down, Jared," another man said gruffly.

"But Pa, I like this one. She's awful perty."

"I want her," another man added.

"She's mine. I asked first."

"Leave her. We gotta git the big one loaded."

"But Pa—"

"I said leave her."

The oldest man roughly grabbed Elle away from his son before he simply dropped her to the asphalt. Elle's body landed with a hard thud as she lay there unconscious. It took all three of the men to load Sam's body into their truck. The youngest son, Jared, said that he had to take a leak, but without asking permission, the man went back for Elle. He roughly picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. There had to be some use for this perty little thing and if nothing else, the girl might be able to help his sister…and protect her. His pa often pushed the girl aside and he thought that his sister could use a woman. The man climbed into the truck, careful to hide Elle from his pa's eyes before the truck pulled out of the parking lot headed on their long drive home.

Elle's eyes began to flutter open while they were in the back of the truck, but a man but a finger over his mouth motioning her to be quiet before he placed the cloth with chloroform over her mouth once again. Elle's eyes closed once again and the man smoothed Elle's hair out of her face. Sam groaned quietly, but Jared just kicked him to shut him up. When they finally got home, Jared tried to sneak out the back of the truck with Elle to bring her to Missy when his father somehow made it around the back of the truck rather quickly to see him carrying the girl. He wasn't intentionally trying to disobey his pa, but this was the first time in a long time he had done so.

"I thought I toldjer to leave her."

"I was thinkin' of Missy, Pa."

"Missy be jest fine. Yeh let her perty looks get to yeh. I'm wonderin' if I should be questionin' yer loyalties, boy."

"They've always been to the family, Pa, and Missy's part of thet family. She-"

"Lee, you take the girl from yer brother."

"Yes, Pa. What we gonna do with her?" Lee asked.

"We gonna put her with her brother."

Lee came over and yanked Elle's body from his brother's arms. Jared then had to help his father carry Sam's body into the building where they kept the victims. There was one open cage beside the man they had kidnapped not too long ago. Sam went in first before Lee threw Elle carelessly on top. They closed the gate behind them and the mechanical locks clicked as the men left. Fifteen minutes later, Elle slowly began to stir. She opened her eyes to see Sam lying out-cold beside her. She tried to shake him awake, but it was no use. He wasn't waking up. She groaned as she slowly began to look around at her surroundings. She couldn't see much in the dark—but as she felt around; she knew that they were in some kind of cage. The sound of footsteps echoed through the room.

"Who's there?" Elle croaked.

The footsteps stopped, but no one responded.

"Show yourself."

The footsteps continued to get a little closer as Elle sat up in the cage. Suddenly, a face appeared just outside the cage next to Elle's face. Elle screamed before the man reached in and muffled her screams with her hands. The man told her that she had to be quiet because he was here to save her. Elle breathed a sigh of relief as his face finally came into view. He looked rather disgusting and oddly familiar, but she couldn't place where she had seen him. Elle's mind was still rather fuzzy on the details as he opened the door to her cage and motioned for her to come forward. Elle climbed out on her hands and knees because she still felt rather dizzy. Once she was outside the cage, it seemed as if the man's smell had just gotten worse. Like he hadn't bathed nor brushed his teeth in years. The smell made Elle want to gag, but she shouldn't be questioning her rescuer, right? The man helped her to her feet and began to lead her outside. They were almost to a truck when they suddenly stopped.

"I—I think thet I saw a little girl inside," the man said.

"We—we should save her," Elle said groggily. "What—what about brother?"

"My—uh—my friends are helpin' him. We need to save thet girl."

"You're right."

Elle leaned heavily against the smelly man as they walked up the stairs into the house. She was surprised at the pungent odor that filled her nostrils and immediately threw-up onto the floor. Not only did the place smell terrible, it looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years. Elle would willingly admit that she wasn't the cleanest person in the world—but she wasn't this bad. The strange man pulled her toward the stairs saying that he saw the girl upstairs, so Elle fumbled behind him up the stairs. They had to save the girl. They had to save an innocent person, especially a little girl. Elle had a soft spot for little girl's forced into this world. The man motioned for Elle to follow him into the first door on his left. She tripped a little over the rug, but the wall broke her fall before she followed him inside. Elle looked around the room curiously finding only an unmade bed.

"I'm real sorry 'bout this," the man said.

"For what?" Elle asked.

Elle turned around to look at the man—when she began to remember just where she had seen him. He had put a finger up to keep her quiet before he had placed that cloth over her face. Elle's eyes widened and she tried to sneak past him, but the man bashed Elle's head into the footboard of the bed and Elle's world went black again.

When Elle awoke again, she was no longer in a cage with Sam. She was lying on a disgustingly dirty bed, one arm handcuffed to the bed. She had tried to escape—or somehow had tried to help her escape; but it had turned out to be a trap. Why did her captor lure her out? None of this made any sense? She tried to wiggle her wrist a bit to see if she could get out of the cuffs, but they just seemed to cut against her skin. A groan escaped Elle's lips when she heard footsteps padding toward her. She stopped what she was doing and looked frantically around her, but was surprised to see a messy looking girl in a homemade dress with a bow in her hair come toward her. The girl stopped a few feet from the bed and cocked her head slightly with narrowed eyes.

"Hey, sweetie, what's your name?" Elle asked.

"Missy," the girl said.

"Cool, Missy, my name's Elle. Can you let me go?" Elle asked hoarsely.

"No," the girl responded.

"Please? I promise I won't hurt you."

"I know that because I'll hurt you first."

Elle noticed the knife in the girl's hand as she walked closer toward her.

"I didn't ask fer you to be here."

"Newsflash, I didn't ask to be here, yet here we are."

Missy narrowed her eyes and brought the knife up to Elle's throat. Elle closed her eyes tightly and focused on her breathing when the sound of thudding footsteps came in.

"Missy, whatcha doin'?" a man's voice spoke.

"I don't like her," Missy responded.

"I toldjer, she's here fer you. She jest needs some time."

"What does Pa think, Jared?"

"Don't you worry 'bout what he thinks."

Elle recognized the man's voice. Jared had been the guy who had helped her and brought her in here. She opened her eyes to confirm her suspicions. Elle tried to back away, but the man must have noticed because he sat on the edge of the bed and brought his hand up to her face. Elle cringed at the touch. What sort of abomination were these people? Shifters? She knew that couldn't be true as he checked her cuffs and touched her silver bracelet. The guy should be screaming right now if she was a shifter.

"You'll be jest fine as long as yeh do what we say," Jared said.

"What 'bout my brother?" Elle asked.

"Yeh won't be seein' him again. Better thet way."

"Please don't hurt him. Let me take his place, please. I'll do whatever you ask."

"Don't work thet way."

"Then why'd you let me out?"

"I didn't. Yeh escaped an' I caught yeh. Missy, go an' see if Lee be needin' yeh."

"But…" Missy started.

"Jest do it."

Missy looked at her brother and to Elle once more before she slowly walked out of the room. Elle swore she saw Missy take one last look back at her, but Jared roughly grabbed Elle's chin so that she was looking straight at him.

"Now yeh listen an' yeh listen good. Yeh escaped an' I caught yeh. Thets the story we stickin' too unless yeh wanna end up in the fryin' pan too," Jared said.

"And what do I get in return for listening?" Elle asked. "Only seems fair."

"Maybe we see 'bout takin' them cuffs off."

"My brother will find me, you know."

"Yer brother ain't getting' out unless we let him out an' even then it only be so we can hunt him. Next time yeh be seein' him be in the stew."

"Stew? You mean…"

"Thet or Pa might make a roast outta him."

Elle began to gag.

"You eat people? Like actually eat them?"

"After havin' a bit o' fun with 'em," Jared responded.

"That's wrong on so many levels."

"Well, yeh better git used to it sweetheart—cuz yer one o' us now."

"I will never be one of you!"

"Either thet or the stew. Yer choice."

"You—you care about your sister, that's obvious. So that means somewhere deep deep down, you care. Please, just let me and my brother go and we'll pretend like none of this ever happened," Elle pleaded one last time.

"Missy'll bring yeh yer breakfast," was all the man spoke before he disappeared.

Elle shuddered at the thought of being forced to eat…ugh. She wouldn't do it. She couldn't do it. She'd rather die—so she was going to die. She and Sam were going to die and Dean was going to be left all alone. It wasn't the thought of death that scared her, it was knowing Dean would be alone that scared her more. How would he handle it? Tears began to fall down Elle's cheeks. She needed to stay alive to get back to Dean…but that would mean doing the unthinkable. She'd have to pretend to fall into their lifestyle all the while plotting her revenge. It all seemed too much—there was no possible way she'd pull it off. Elle could see the sun beginning to rise through the window.

"You helped me once before!" Elle shouted looking at the sky. "Where's the help now? Or did you stop caring? I know you brought me back and kept me around for a reason. So you better help me—or so help me god… "

"Who yeh talkin' too?" Missy asked.

"God," Elle said sarcastically before continuing. "Angels, demons, the mailman…hell if I know."

Missy set a plate down on the bed beside Elle before she folded her arms across her chest. They looked like eggs over easy…but Elle couldn't be sure.

"I'm not eating that," Elle said.

"I made 'em myself. Even went down an' got the eggs from the chicken coop. Yeh'll eat 'em even if I make yeh eat 'em," Missy threatened.

"There isn't any…meat in there, is there?"

"Ran out a couple weeks ago. Why else yeh think we doin' this?"

"I—I don't like my eggs over easy. They make me gag."

Elle didn't even have to lie about that—it was the truth. Missy looked rather hurt by Elle's comment.

"Fine, then starve. I told Jared this were a mistake."

Missy walked over to a corner where Elle's bag sat on a chair. She tossed it on the floor angrily before she plopped down on the chair. Elle's copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire flew out of her bag. Missy looked at it curiously before she stood up and picked up the book. She sat back down with it and began to thumb through the pages quickly—too fast to be read.

"You like Harry Potter?" Elle scoffed.

"Who's that?" Missy asked.

"It's the book you're currently reading."

"I ain't readin' it."

"Can you even read?"

Missy didn't say anything.

"That's pretty messed up," Elle scoffed. "A father who teaches you to eat people but doesn't teach you how to read."

"Yeh don't know nothin' 'bout nothin'," Missy hissed before she left the room.

Elle felt somewhat bad for the girl—this wasn't the life she had chosen. Much like her. Elle shuddered at the thought—no, she was nothing like this girl. She didn't partake in that disgusting act. Elle's head began to hurt as the sun seemed to shine brighter into the room. So, she closed her eyes and somehow managed to fall asleep.

It was dark outside, under the starry sky. Wait a minute, dark? Outside? It took her a minute to process, but she was back in northern Wisconsin. Was she really here, like last time? Or was this a dream? Elle tried to pinch herself, but she felt nothing. Definitely nothing. Why had her subconscious chosen to bring her back here? Back to one of the worse moments of her life?

"Campbell," that familiar voice rang in her voice.

No. No way in hell. She was currently being held captive and this creep decided to pop into her subconscious?

"You can leave me the hell alone!" Elle hissed. "Why am I even doing this? I'm just talking to myself!"

"Campbell, listen."

"This is all just happening in my head."

"You asked for my help."

"Poof me out of here then!"

"You are not in immediate danger so I cannot be of assistance."

"Really? You invaded my mind to tell me that you can't help? What a douche."

"No. I cannot."

"Thanks for nothing!"

Elle slowly looked up to the sky.

"Gain her trust."

Elle's eyes flashed open. Gain her trust? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Elle rolled over onto her side. There had to be something lying around that she could use to unlock the cuffs. A hairpin? Paperclip? Hell, even a toothpick. She saw the fork on the plate of eggs that was still sitting there. That could work. Elle grabbed it and then reached up to try and unlock herself when she heard footsteps coming back up the stairs. She quickly put the fork back on the plate and waited. It was Missy, returning to her post. The little girl plopped herself on the chair once again. Elle pondered talking to her for a moment. What would she even say? How was she supposed to gain the girl's trust? The only thing she knew about the girl was that she was forced to lead a life somewhat similar to hers. She supposed it could work…

"I used to be you, you know."

"You don't know a thing 'bout me."

"No, of course not. I know nothing about trying to get your daddy to love you when you're stuck living life in the shadows of older brothers—being forced into a life you didn't chose and never would if you actually had a choice in the matter. Yeah, I know nothing about that."

"My pa loves me."

"Has he ever said it?"

Missy didn't respond.

"Yeah, didn't think so."

"Jared loves me. That's why yer here."

"My brothers love me too—but it's different. It's not the kind of love we want—the kind we deserve. You deserve better than him and you know it."

Missy tilted her head to get a better look at Elle.

"Do you like living like this?" Elle asked. "You can tell me the truth. It's not like I'm going anywhere or telling anyone."

Missy seemed to stare blankly ahead for a few moments, simply blinking her eyes slowly.

"No," Missy whispered.

Elle said nothing for a moment. She had somehow gotten through. She wasn't quite sure how she had done it—but she did. She had broken Missy's wall, now she needed to keep that relationship going, because Missy was the key to all of this—that Elle was certain of now.

"I—uh—I can read to you, if you'd like," Elle offered.

"What?" Missy asked.

"My book. I can read it to you. It's probably my favorite Harry Potter book. I mean I'll probably have to explain a few things before we start."

"Why're yeh doin' this?"

"We're both stuck in here, might as well at least make it tolerable."

"Fine, but iffen I don't like it, yeh'll stop."

"It's Harry Potter. What's not to like?"

Elle spent probably half an hour summarizing the first three books. Missy just seemed to soak in everything Elle was saying about Harry, Hermione, Ron, Snape, Dumbledore, Voldemort, and Hogwarts. She reacted like any normal child would to a fantasy story—a story that took her out of her own world and into someone else's. Pure escapism. Elle then began reading aloud from the first chapter of Goblet of Fire. Missy seemed entranced as she heard the words. She was eating up every word Elle was reading—even to the point that she moved from the chair to sit on the bed beside Elle. Elle had just finished the first—rather creepy chapter, when Missy stopped her.

"Is Hogwarts real?" Missy asked.

"It's just a story, Missy," Elle responded.

"I wish it were real."

"Why?" Elle asked without meaning to.

Missy's eyes seemed to grow distant for a moment. Elle hoped that she hadn't just undone all the work she had worked meticulously at, but Missy then looked back at her and whispered.

"Because Harry got to get away."

Elle easily read between the lines. It wasn't the fact that Harry got to get away—it was the hope that maybe Missy could someday get away too. Missy's expression was no longer the cold one she had only a few hours ago. It was much softer, much more innocent. The girl leaned forward, toward Elle and tugged at Elle's braid. Both girls smiled at each other, but on the inside, Elle was thinking how sad it was that Missy had to live like this. Despite the ass John Winchester might be, he never made her live like this. Never forced her to be so dirty or illiterate or to perform acts that would made God himself blush. Elle's heart really went out to the girl.

"Missy, how old are you?" Elle asked.

"Ten, I think," Missy said. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-one, but I'll be twenty-two in June."

The doorbell rang. Elle was surprised that it even worked. Someone must be here. Maybe someone was here to rescue her. She hoped that it was Dean, but she just hoped that Missy escaped unscathed. There was something in that little girl worth saving.

"Missy! Get the door!" a voice hollered from downstairs.

"I—I gotta go," Missy said sadly.

"Yeah, I kinda guessed as much," Elle responded.

"I'll be back though. Can you make my hair look like yours?"

"You're gonna have to take a shower," Elle said.

"Why?" Missy questioned somewhat coldly.

"Because it's easier to braid wet hair, unless you want to scream with every snarl I untangle."

"Ok."

Elle waited for Missy to return. She debated taking the fork to the cuffs again and going out to find Sam, but Missy returned a lot sooner than she expected her hair dripping wet. Missy asked for Elle to do her hair again.

"I'm gonna need my other hand," Elle said slowly.

"I don't have the key," Missy responded.

"Maybe you can pick the lock…with the fork."

Elle looked down at the fork as Missy picked it up. Missy held onto the fork for a minute before her face tightened into a scowl.

"You're gonna try and run away, ain't yeh? Pa said you'd try somethin' like this."

"I'm not going to hurt you," Elle promised. "I promise, pinky promise."

"What's thet?"

"Stick your pinky finger out and wrap it around mine," Elle said and Missy did as she was told. "It means that I'm not going to break my promise to you. I will do everything in my power to make sure that you don't get hurt."

Missy relaxed some and climbed across Elle, Missy's wet hair dripping over Elle's face as she used the fork to pick at the lock on the handcuffs. Elle breathed a sigh of relief when her wrist was free before she sat up a little. Her head spun a bit, but she slowly regained her composure. She had Missy turn around so that she braid the little girl's hair. Elle was also pretty sure that "showering" to Missy meant sticking her head under the water, because the girl's hair certainly didn't smell any cleaner. Elle decided to plait the girl's hair into two braids. She had made the girl a promise, but that didn't mean she couldn't get more information to plan both of their escapes.

"Who was at the door?" Elle asked.

"Some lady cop," Missy responded. "Ouch, thet hurt."

"You've got snarly hair, so it's going to. Now what did the lady cop want?"

"She asked where my ma was and I distracted her before Pa knocked her over the head with a shovel."

"Missy! That's not very nice!"

"But it's what Pa told me to do."

Elle sighed. That man had his little girl screwed up and Elle knew it was going to take more than this to fix her. In fact, it was probably going to take years and years of therapy just to make things somewhat tolerable.

"Missy, you know that it's not right to hurt people, right?" Elle asked. Or eat them, she thought.

"Pa, Lee, and Jared do it all the time," Missy said. "An' I help 'em."

"But that doesn't make it right. For example, killing people—is a no no."

"You've killed someone."

"Wha—what makes you say that?"

"I saw the gun in yer bag. I'm not stupid."

"I only kill monsters, I swear. People who hurt people for no reason at all."

But Missy was far from innocent. For a second, Elle wondered if maybe Missy would be better off in their world of hunting monsters than trying to live a normal life after this. Elle sighed before she picked up the other section of hair to braid.

"Where is the lady cop now?" Elle asked.

"She's in the empty cage," Missy said with a shrug. "Guess it ain't so empty anymore."

Elle felt her heart drop at the sound of empty. Had he already been offed? Were they already finding some sort of use for her brother? Elle couldn't bear to think of it—but she needed to know.

"Is there someone in the other one?" Elle asked slowly.

"Really tall guy," Missy said.

"That's my brother."

"My chest feels funny."

"You're probably feeling your heart hurt."

There was something there—Elle knew the little girl was feeling sorry. It gave Elle hope, but it didn't leave her much time to convince Missy to help her save Sam. If only she had more time. Missy was finally beginning to trust her and to ask the girl to go against everything she had every known for a person she had known for a day was unrealistic. But she had to try, didn't she? She had to try and save Sam while there was still time.

"Missy, you know how you love Jared?"

"Yeh."

"I love my brother Sam too. He's important to me. And you also remember how I told you that I wasn't going to let you get hurt?"

"Yeh."

"I have a really big favor to ask of you. Can you help me save Sam? Help me save him and I'll let you decide whether we both go with him or we both stay here. Either way, I'm not leaving you alone here, just like sisters."

"Yer lettin' me choose?"

"If you help me, then yes, the choice is yours, Missy."

"Sisters," Missy said holding her pinky up for Elle to grab.

Elle stood up slowly but quickly fell to the bed. She was still quite dizzy from not having eaten anything and the trauma last night. Missy helped Elle back to her feet and Elle told the little girl that she was fine. Elle slung her bag back around her shoulder. Missy took hold of Elle's hand and led her down the hallway and to the stairs and whispered something about the bottom stair. Elle kept telling herself mentally to watch out for the bottom stair as the quietly continued downward. She could hear voices carrying up the stairs.

"C'mon Pa, let us hunt him," a voice Elle hadn't heard before said. She assumed it was Missy's other brother.

"Yeah, this one's a fighter. Sure would be fun to hunt him," Jared responded which got a laugh from his father.

"Bet the girl woulda been fun too if someone hadn't gone and ruined it."

"Yeh still might get yer chance at her," Pa said.

"Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me. That's what this is about? You yahoos hunt people?" a familiar voice said.

Elle's heart stopped as Pa continued talking. That voice didn't belong to just anyone. It belonged to Dean. Her Dean—her brother. She smiled—he came after her. Even after he jokingly said that he wouldn't come save her ass; but yet, now here he was captured by these lunatics. But now she was torn. She had two brothers to save—she had to decide which one needed her help more imminently. All of the Bender men were with Dean, leading Elle to conclude that she needed his help most right now. All she had to was grab her gun from her bag and shoot. Shouldn't be too hard, right? Elle took another step, completely forgetting about it being the last step. A terribly loud creaking sound echoed through the place. Elle mentally berated herself for forgetting about the stupid step as the Bender men look to her and Missy curiously.

"Pretend you caught me," Elle said through gritted teeth to Missy who just stood there frozen with a deer in the headlights look on her face. Elle knew she had to improvise. "Damnit, I can't believe I was caught by a friggin' ten year old. I suck at this."

Elle carefully held onto Missy's hands and dragged her behind her—trying to make it look like Missy was pushing her forward.

"I toldjer she weren't good enough," Pa said. "Put her in that chair, Missy."

Missy stood there staring at her pa.

"Do as yer told."

"Don't hurt her," Missy said. "Pinky promise."

"Pinky promise?" Pa laughed. "Yeh'll just do as I say girl and thets thet."

"Yes, Pa."

Elle could tell the Missy reluctantly forced her into the chair. The man's hold on that little girl was sickening and Elle couldn't help but wonder if there was a piece of the puzzle she was missing—but she didn't want to think about that. Jared then came over and tied Elle's hands to the arms of the chair before he bound her legs to the chair's legs. Elle looked at Missy who looked completely unsure of the situation.

"Now thet thet's all settled, where were we," Pa said as he turned toward Dean.

"We were talking about you not tuning me into an ashtray," Dean smarted-off which caused Lee to walk over and punch Dean in the face. "You punch like my sister."

"Only reason I don't let my boys take you right here and now is thet there's somethin' I be needin' to know."

The old smelly man walked over to the fireplace and pulled out a hot poker. Elle looked to Dean who looked right back and shook his head as the man slowly walked over. He stopped beside Dean as Missy slowly inched toward Elle's direction.

"Yeah? How 'bout it's not nice to marry your sister?" Dean questioned. "I don't know how you could stomach it. I can't even stand to see mine in her swimsuit."

"Tell me—any of the cops gonna come lookin' fer you?" Pa questioned.

"Oh, eat me," Dean said sarcastically. "No, no, now, wait, wait, wait—you actually might."

"I'm sure he'd make a nice rump roast," Elle said to make Dean laugh and distract the others long enough for one of them to come up with some sort of plan.

"I've been told that I do have am a fine piece of ass."

"Seems about average to me."

"You two think this is funny?" Pa hissed. "You brought this down on my family and you wanna play games? We'll play some games then. Looks like we're gonna have a hunt tonight after all, boys."

The boys hollered in joy which made Missy look to Elle. Elle could tell that the girl was conflicted by what she was feeling. Elle shook her head and mouthed the word no, hoping that Missy would understand. But Pa wasn't finished taunting Dean just yet.

"And you get to pick the animal. The boy or the cop?"

"Okay, just hold on one minute. Nobody's coming for me, alright? It's just us," Dean said. "Well, you, me, two ugly butt-heads, a creepy little girl, and that daughter-of-a-bitch."

Elle tried to hide her smile at Dean's mention of her, finally getting it right. She knew that he was calling her that for her sake. She never knew one could be so happy about being called a bitch. But the happiness didn't last long because Pa put placed the hot poker on Dean's shirt searing straight through into his flesh. Dean screamed in pain and Elle had to turn her face away so she couldn't see her brother in agony.

"You son of a bitch," Dean hissed.

Pa then removed the poker from Dean's flesh and moved it closer to his eye, threatening to take his eye next time. Elle watched as Dean told them hunt Sam—Sam would probably at least have a fighting chance. He knew how to survive in a monster filled world—at least better than whoever the lady cop was.

"Lee, go do it," Pa said. "Don't let him out, though. Shoot him in the cage."

Lee was quick and eager to obey his father's orders. Elle looked to Missy through the tears that were stinging her eyes as Dean argued with the man and could almost see the struggle that was going on inside the girl. Missy mouthed the word heart to Elle and Elle nodded and mouthed back I know. Why couldn't that man see how fragile his daughter really was? That one wrong move and his daughter was going to turn on him—all because someone actually took the time to make the little girl feel special in a good way. But it was to the Winchesters benefit if Missy finally snapped and turned. Pa made a mention to kill the lady cop too and get the mess cleaned up. Elle was somewhat terrified to know what was going to happen to her and Dean because whatever it was couldn't be good. Pa then walked over toward Elle.

"Yeh are a perty little thing," Pa said as he flipped Elle's braid as she turned her face away from him.

"You leave her alone. Your beef's with me," Dean hissed. "Actually that gives me a thought—chicken or beef? I'm more of a beef guy myself…"

"Shut yer mouth! Jared, tape his mouth."

Jared found some duct tape and taped Dean's mouth shut. Had this been a normal situation, Elle would've found it humorous that Dean had his mouth taped, but right now she wasn't sure what emotion she should be feeling. More creeped out with Pa hovering close by.

"Yeh would make quite the trophy," Pa continued.

Elle's eyed widened as she thought about them keeping their human victims like an animal hunter keeps theirs.

"But Pa…" Missy gasped.

"You've grown attached to her, haven't yeh?" Pa asked Missy.

"Pa, something's not right. Lee shoulda been back by now," Jared said.

"Yer right," Pa grumbled. "Lee!" he called but there was no response. "Jared, yeh come with me. Missy, yeh stay watch him now. Yeh do a good job and I'll think 'bout sparin' the girl."

Missy picked up a knife and nodded in her pa's direction. Elle panicked—had Missy taken a turn for the worse? Had she chosen her crazy family? That's what Elle would have done at ten. She walked closer to Dean and kept the knife close to him as her Pa beamed proudly as he walked away. From Elle's angle it looked like Missy thrust the knife downward into Dean's arm.

"Missy, don't hurt him! That's my other brother!" Elle called.

"What? I'm jest untying him," Missy said in confusion. "Thet's the right thing to do, right?"

"Yeah, it is," Elle sighed. "But Missy, why are you doing the right thing?"

"Pa lied 'bout keepin' yeh. He jest said thet so I'd do what he wanted me to do. But I don't want him to hurt yeh—I like yeh and I jest thought this guy could help. I didn't know he was yer brother."

Dean tried to talk, but they couldn't understand what he was saying through the duct tape.

"You're right he can help," Elle said. "Although, he might be more helpful if you take the tape off his mouth."

Missy nodded her head before she quickly peeled the tape of Dean's mouth.

"Son of a bitch," Dean hissed before he moved his jaw around several times by opening and closing his mouth. "Elle how're you doing?"

"I've been better," Elle said. "But Missy here's been keeping me company."

"She one of them?"

"She's worth saving, Dean. I mean, she is the one saving your ass after all."

"Well, my ass wouldn't need saving if you and Sammy woulda let me get another round like I asked."  
"Dean."

"I know, I know—your point has been noted. Now how 'bout you give me the knife, I think I'll be a little faster than a little girl."

Missy looked to Elle who nodded her head.

"Dean won't hurt you, will you Dean?" Elle said.

"If I'm gonna stab anyone it's gonna be the guy that stabbed me with that poker," Dean muttered.

"Missy, that's just Dean for, he promises not to hurt you."

Missy handed over the knife to Dean who cut through the ropes much faster than Missy. Instead, Missy went over and tried to untie Elle's ropes, which Elle had already loosened a bit in an earlier attempt to escape. When Dean was finished he came over to help Missy and Elle. He looked hesitantly at Missy before he looked to his sister. Elle just smiled weakly.

"Some people are worth saving."

"I think I've heard that one a time or two. Now, let's go save Sammy's ass," Dean said.

"For once I managed to save my own ass," Sam said as he walked through the doorway. "I was coming to help you two."

"Sam!" Elle said breathlessly before she ran over and enveloped her overly-sized brother in a hug.

Dean walked over and joined in the Winchester family love fest. Missy stood there awkwardly watching them, when Elle looked at the little girl. That little girl deserved this as much as she did.

"Get over here," Elle chuckled weakly.

Missy ran over and tightly clung to Elle as the sound of a gun firing echoed through the calm night air. Elle held tighter on to Missy as she watched the girl's face pale. Dean suggested that they should probably go check out what happened. Elle refused to be parted from her brothers and Missy refused to be parted from Elle. So, Elle bent down a little and Missy jumped on Elle's back for a piggyback ride. They walked outside to find the lady cop walking toward them as she exited the barn.

"This must be Elle," the woman said. "And the daughter."

"What about the dad?" Dean asked.

"Shot," the woman said after a long pause. "Trying to escape."

"What 'bout Jared?" Missy questioned.

"He's alive," Sam said. "Both of your brothers are alive."

"But they're going to jail for a really long time," the lady cop said.

"What'll happen to her?" Dean asked looking in Missy's direction.

"She'll probably become a ward of the state unless she has any family that comes forward."

"But she deserves better than being bounced around in the system," Elle said. "Especially after what she's been through."

"I can't really see another option."

"I want to stay with Elle," Missy spoke up. "We're sisters."

"Sweetie," Elle sighed.

Elle set Missy down on the ground and knelt down on the ground to look the little girl in the eyes. This was going to be especially painful after everything they had just been through together. But this was no life for a little girl—innocent or not.

"I can't take care of you I can barely take care of myself," Elle said her eyes brimming with tears. "But I'm giving you a chance at a life that I never had—a normal one."

"I want to stay with you," Missy said.

"My life is no place for little girls."

"I promise I won't get in the way. I'll be good, I promise."

"Missy, I'm sorry."

"But you said we were sisters. You pinky promised."

"I know, I did and I meant every word I said. But as your big sister it's my job to make sure your safe. That's what my big brothers do for me. And what's safest for you is to find a family who is going to love you as much as I already do—if not more."

Missy crumbled against Elle in tears and Elle held onto the little girl who had been her savior. She simply held the girl for several minutes before she looked up to the lady cop with tears shining in her eyes.

"Promise me that you'll try as hard as you can to get Missy into a good home," Elle said looking up at the lady cop. "Or I swear I will call your office every day until she does."

"I don't know how much I can do if she's on the premises when backup arrives," the lady cop said.

"She deserves a chance at a normal life."

"You misunderstood me. The state police and the FBI are gonna be here within the hour. They're gonna take one look at her and open a case and want to talk to all three of you. But if you were long gone by then, they might not make the connection."

"Oh, but what about Missy?"

"Meet me at this address tomorrow at noon and no one will be none the wiser."

The lady cop handed Elle an address which she quickly tucked into her jeans pocket.

"What do we do with her until then?" Dean asked.

"I'm thinking delivery pizza and pay-per-view sound really good right about now," Elle sighed.

"I wouldn't argue with that," Sam said.

"Looks like majority rules," Dean said sarcastically. "Hey, listen, I don't mean to press our luck, but we're kind of in the middle of nowhere. Think we could catch a ride?"

"Start walking. Duck if you see a squad car," the lady cop said.

Missy took hold of Elle's hand and smiled as they headed down the long driveway to meet the highway to take them back into town. Elle slowly breathed in the fresh air—something she had missed after being in that house.

"Don't you two ever do that again," Dean said.

"Do what?" Sam asked.

"Go missin' like that."

"Awww—you were worried about us," Elle teased.

"All I'm sayin' is, either of you vanish like that again, I'm not lookin' for you."

"Sure you won't," Sam chuckled.

"Empty threats," Elle said with a smile.

The Winchesters and Missy had to duck twice as the state police and then the FBI drove by, but eventually they made it back to Hibbing and their motel room. While they waited for their pizzas to arrive, they all took turns showering. Elle was surprised by how well Missy cleaned up. Elle offered to share her bed with Missy—which seemed to excite the little girl: a sleepover. Dean was somewhat distant and stayed on his rollaway bed as Elle and Missy read another chapter of Harry Potter and took silly pictures with Elle's camera. It wasn't long before Missy was tired out and began snoring softly against Elle. Regretfully, Elle stood up to go use the bathroom and when she got out, Dean was there to confront her.

"She's not gonna kill us while we sleep, is she?" Dean asked.

"Me? No. You? I can't make any promises," Elle said sarcastically.

"Elle, I'm serious."

"Dean, she's probably exhausted after the day she's had. But if you're so worried, then stay up and keep watch. I'm going to sleep. And I'm getting up early in the morning to get some of these developed for her—I think you and Sam should be able to handle a ten year old."

Elle crawled into her bed and sleep quickly overtook her. Shit. She was back in that dark forest beside the lake. Why was she back here? She didn't want to be back here. But something like anger bubbled up inside her as she looked up into the sky. A nighttime sky that should be serene.

"Thanks for nothing!" Elle shouted.

"You got away, did you not?" the voice questioned.

"No thanks to you."

"Was it not I who told you to use the girl?"

"Well, yes, but…"

"I have another message for you."

"Oh, goodie."

"Keep close watch on your brother."

"Which one? I have two of them in case you've forgotten!"

But the voice never responded. Instead, Elle bolted upright from her sleep to find Missy sleeping quietly beside her and Sam and Dean sleeping in their own beds. She looked between her brothers—whoever or whatever this thing was, was really starting to annoy her. Didn't even tell her why to keep a close watch. Elle ran her fingers through her still damp hair before she rested her head back on the pillow. Maybe it was just her subconscious just playing tricks on her because she was oversensitive to that situation. She snuggled back up with the pillow and fell back asleep.

The next day was a rather sad day. They took Missy out for pancakes, which she enjoyed but as the time drew closer and closer to noon, Missy began to get a little sadder and sadder. At noon, Elle walked Missy to the address the lady cop had given her. It was a hard goodbye. Elle hugged Missy tightly before she pulled out her Harry Potter book out of her bag and handed it to Missy. Missy looked at her in surprise.

"Look inside," Elle whispered.

Missy opened the book to see several pictures of her with Elle, which made her smile.

"Not quite a sock for Dobby, but still pretty good if you ask me," Elle said before sliding the pictures. "Don't tell Dean, but this is my phone number. You can call me anytime, day or night."

"Pinky promise?" Missy asked.

"Yeah—well, unless I'm sleeping. Then I make no promises," Elle joked.

Elle gave Missy one more hug before she tearfully walked away and back to the Impala where Sam and Dean were waiting for her.

"I hate to ask—but you didn't eat anyone, did you?" Dean questioned.

"The world will never know," Elle said sarcastically.

"I mean, it's not important, but did you?"

"Give me my Gameboy back and I'll answer you."

Dean quickly got the Gameboy out of the glove compartment and tossed it back to her.

"Well?"

"No, of course not. Like you even had to ask that."

Elle stuffed the Gameboy in her bag as Dean pulled the car into drive. She rested her head against the pillow, still exhausted from the day before and they had to get the hell out of this town. Although, Sam promised her that they'd find the closest town nearby so she could get her cast removed. She wanted to fall asleep, but she was hesitant that there might be another intrusion to her dream world. She was scared that she was becoming like Sam. What if she started seeing people dying? She didn't want that. She just wanted to be normal. But the sleep eventually won her as the Impala sped on down the highway in direction of another town that needed saving from an unknown threat.


	17. Shadow

Elle slowly drummed her fingers against the counter of the costume rental shop Sam had dragged them to first thing in the morning. It was rather nice to see her left wrist again after all those weeks. Well, in all honesty, it was nicer to be able to itch her wrist normally without strange glances and commentary from her brothers. Dean must have gotten annoyed with Elle drumming her fingers because he slammed his hand down on top of hers and glared at her. Elle rolled her eyes in response before she withdrew her hand from underneath Dean's and shoved it in her pocket. The man returned from the back room with three blue jumpsuits.

"These what you lookin' for?" the guy asked.

"They're perfect," Sam responded.

"What'd you need 'em for?"

"None your damn business," Dean grunted.

"Sorry, about him," Elle added. "He gets made fun of for being in Community Theater which makes him uncomfortable. We're going to be in a play that one of the local groups is putting on."

"You know, I think I heard of that," the guy said. "But I thought it was something Shakespeare."

"It is. We're uh—just giving it a modern spin."

"Repairmen? No offense or anything, but remind me not to go see that."

Sam and Elle chuckled while Dean stared angrily ahead.

"So, who's paying?" the cashier asked.

"He is," both Elle and Sam said pointing at Dean.

"Of course I am," Dean muttered as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. "You two owe me pie."

The guy at the costume shop swiped the stolen credit card Dean had given him before he put the jumpsuits into plastic bags. The man handed the bags to Dean who handed them to Elle. She muttered under her breath as Dean led them back to the Impala. Elle threw the bags in the trunk before she crawled in the backseat. Elle was barely inside before the Impala's tires squealed and the car sped out of the parking lot. Dean complained about how terrible Chicago traffic was for about fifteen minutes before they stopped outside some sort of diner. Sam looked at it curiously and Elle was the first one to voice confusion.

"This doesn't look like the address Sammy gave you," Elle commented.

"I was serious about the pie," Dean said.

"Dean, we've got…" Sam started.

"I'll listen to you while I'm eating my pie."

"Dean, this girl lost her life."

"She's been dead a week. She can't get any deader in the fifteen minutes it takes me to eat my pie."

"Sam, he's gonna be a complete pain in the ass if we don't let him get his pie," Elle sighed.

"He's always a pain the ass," Sam muttered.

"But a good-looking pain in the ass, right?" Dean said.

"Don't make me puke," Elle scoffed.

"Let's make this quick," Sam groaned.

"Look on the bright side, at least we don't have to change in the car," Dean said with a grin. "Elle, get the stuff out of the trunk."

"What do I look like, your slave?" Elle questioned.

"You really want the answer to that question, kiddo?"

Elle grabbed the bags out of the trunk and slammed it shut before she followed Sam and Dean into the diner. Sam picked a table close to the door before Elle dropped the bags on the table. Dean didn't seem to mind as he already skimmed through the dessert menu on the table. Elle couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that Dean looked disappointed that they had a waiter instead of a waitress. Dean ordered a piece of cherry pie, while Elle ordered a piece of pumpkin, and Sam ordered a glass of water. The waiter brought them their order and Dean immediately began to devour his pie—while Elle stared at hers for a moment. She looked anxiously between her brothers as her thoughts turned back to that dream she had. Which one was she supposed to be watching? Was she supposed to be watching one of them? Maybe it was all just in her head. Dean dug his fork into Elle's pie before Elle whacked his knuckles with her fork.

"What the hell?" Dean hissed.

"Swiper no swiping," Elle retorted.

"You snooze you lose."

"I will stab you."

Dean made eye contact with Elle before chuckled and removed his fork.

"At least someone learned the importance of pie," Dean said looking over at Sam who sipped on his glass of water.

"I like pie," Sam said between sips.

"When was the last time you had a piece?"

"I don't know it's been a while."

"I bet he would've had a piece in Burkitsville, if you didn't piss him off," Elle commented.

"That apple pie was not friggin' worth it. Never mention it again," Dean grumbled.

"Is that why you've been avoiding apple pie since then?" Elle chuckled. "Does it bring back bad memories? Oh, you poor thing."

"Shut your mouth."

"Or what?"

"Guys, we got a job to do," Sam said. "So whenever you're done, can we get out of here?"

"We can leave after Dean proves that he's not afraid of apple pie," Elle retorted.

"I'm not afraid of apple pie," Dean scoffed. "You're seeing things that aren't there."

"Prove it."

"Why should I?"

"Because she does have a point," Sam added. "I haven't seen you eat a piece of apple pie in quite a while."

"Yeah, well like you said, Sammy, we have some investigating to do. I'm gonna go get changed."

Dean grabbed the first jumpsuit out of the bag and headed to the bathroom to change. Surprisingly, he was in there quite a while, which gave Sam and Elle enough time to call the waiter over and order a piece of apple pie. Elle giggled as the waited for Dean to return. Elle told Sam that he should go check on Dean; but as soon as Sam got to the bathroom, the door opened. Out walked Dean in a skin-tight jumpsuit, pant legs that went halfway up his calves, arm sleeves that were almost up to his elbows. Both Sam and Elle started laughing uncontrollably as Dean walked closer to the table.

"I think it's a little tight," Dean said uncomfortably.

"That's because that one would be mine, you loser," Elle giggled. "It has my nametag on it."

"Yeah…I knew that."

"Sure, you did. How the hell did you even get it on?"

"You don't want to know."

"Oh god, I am so not wearing that thing now."

Dean saw the bathroom door close and cursed. It was a one person kind of bathroom and an old guy was currently occupying it. Dean carefully maneuvered himself into a sitting position as Elle pushed the plate of pie in front of him as Sam watched with a grin on his face.

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"Apple pie," Elle grinned. "We ordered it special for you."

"Go on," Sam furthered.

"I should've known better than to leave you two alone," Dean muttered.

Dean looked down at the apple pie with quite a serious expression on his face before he picked up his fork. He muttered something about hating Sam and Elle before he plunged his fork into the pie. He stabbed a small bite off and shoved the fork into his mouth, quickly swallowing whatever was on the fork without even chewing. Dean then pushed the plate over to Sam before he asked Elle if she had any scissors in her bag. This only made Sam and Elle laugh harder as Dean grumbled and snatched the other jumpsuits before he awkwardly walked back to the bathroom. Sam followed Dean to the bathroom while Elle paid their bill and waited for her brothers to emerge. While the boys were changing, Elle decided that she was going to play the part of some sort of management for the alarm system company—meaning that she was going to have to wear something more business-like and probably the heels she had stolen in Ohio.

When the boys finally came out, Elle stood up and followed them back out to the Impala. She ran her idea for her cover past the boys and they seemed ok with it, so from the backseat of the car she had to change. She changed into a blouse and pencil skirt before she moved to use the rearview mirror so she do her hair—although Dean yelled at her for being in his way as she pulled her hair back into a tight bun. She rolled her eyes and bent over to dig through the junk on the floor for her non-prescription glasses that were somewhere in the abyss. When she finally found them, she had to dust them off before she placed them on her face just as Dean pulled the car across the street from the apartment building. Elle quickly got out of the car and dug in the trunk for the heels to complete the stuffy ensemble as Dean pulled a toolbox out as well. When the shoes were on, she took a few steps, but she was still friggin' terrible at walking in heels, so she held onto Sam's arm.

"This has gotta be the place," Sam said as he helped guide Elle across the street.

"You know, I've gotta say that Dad, Elle, and me did just fine without these stupid costumes. I feel like a high school drama dork," Dean groaned. "Although, you both would know more about that than I would. Sammy—what was that play you did? What was it—Our Town? Yeah, you were good, it was cute. And Elle-Belle, who knew…"

"Dean," Elle groaned.

"What? I'm serious you were good in the Sound of Mucus—I mean Music. You were cute and annoying like any little kid's supposed to be."

"Do you have a point to this?"

"That I don't need this—I think you two are just lookin' to relive the good-ol' days."

"You wanna pull this off or not?" Sam groaned.

"I'm just sayin', these outfits cost hard-earned money, okay?"

"Whose?"

"Ours. You think credit card fraud is easy?"

"Has to be if you can do it," Elle retorted.

Sam laughed as Dean pushed Elle into Sam, causing her to lose her balance in the stilettos she was wearing. Elle cursed under her breath before Sam helped her regain her balance. The Winchesters walked into the apartment building in search of the landlady who proved to be easy to find. Surprisingly, she led them right upstairs to the spot where the woman had been killed a week earlier. The woman unlocked the door and then looked at them, nodding her head for them to go inside. Elle made a motion with her hands for the boys to go in first, so Sam and Dean both went inside. The sound of Elle's heels clicking resounded through the apartment as she walked inside. She cringed at the sound; she preferred to go undetected—without making a sound. The landlady shut the door behind them and Elle noticed the chain on the door was broken while Sam and Dean walked toward the spots of blood on the carpet.

"You said you're with the alarm company? The landlady asked.

"Well, I'm here to make sure these two don't screw anything up that would cause me to have more paperwork," Elle said stiffly, after she adjusted her glasses.

"Men," the landlady scoffed.

"You don't have to tell me twice. They think they know what they're doing and then they go and screw everything up. Which means more paperwork. Sometimes, I think the world would run a little smoother if it women were in charge."

"The poor girl would probably still be alive if it had been a woman who had made the alarm because it was as useful to her as boobs on a man."

"Well, that's why we're here," Dean said. "To see what went wrong and stop it from happening again."

"And I will make sure they do a thorough job," Elle said.

"Good. You I trust—these two yahoos, not so much," the landlady said.

"Now, ma'am, you found the body?" Sam asked.

"I already told you as much."

"Sorry, just trying to be thorough as the lady said. Now, you found her right after it happened?"

"No, I found her a few days later. Meredith's work called—she hadn't shown up. I knocked on the door and that's when I noticed the smell. Good lord, I never want to smell that smell again."

"Any windows open? Any sign of a break-in?" Dean asked.

"No, windows were locked and the front door bolted. Had to cut the chain on the door just to get in."

"And the alarm was still on?"

"Like I said, bang-up job your company's doing."

There was a silence for a moment, as Dean seemed stunned for a moment. Elle walked over to the woman and rested her hand on the woman's arm.

"We want to get to the bottom of this," Elle said reassuringly. "Make sure that this never happens to a woman on her own ever again."

"I just can't imagine who would want to hurt Meredith," the landlady sighed.

"Mmhmm…you see any overturned furniture? Broken glass? Signs of a struggle?" Dean asked.

"Everything was in perfect condition—except Meredith."

"What condition was Meredith in?" Sam asked.

"Meredith was all over—in pieces. The guy who killed her must have been some kind of whackjob. But I'll tell you what, if I didn't know any better, I'd have said a wild animal did it."

"Ma'am, do you mind if we take some time? Give this place a once-over?"

"Don't worry, I'll be keeping a close eye on them," Elle said as she patted the landlady's arm.

"You do that, sweetheart. Go on boys, knock yourselves out," the landlady said.

The landlady smiled down at Elle before she walked out of the apartment, leaving Elle with Sam and Dean. Elle looked behind her a few times to make sure the woman was gone before she pulled her feet out of the shoes. She breathed a sigh of relief as she wiggled her toes which were now free from its confines.

"Was all that necessary?" Dean asked.

"I was creating a bond. It worked, didn't it?" Elle retorted.

"You think for as much as you mess with Elle, you'd have expected her to do this more often," Sam commented.

"Not helping," Dean said.

"No, you're not Dean. Arguing with me isn't doing the job," Elle said. "Now, chop chop before I have to call HQ on you."

"Terrifying," Dean said sarcastically as he opened his toolbox and pulled out the EMF meter.

"I can always go key Baby."

"You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?"

"Guys," Sam groaned.

"Where were we again?" Elle asked sweetly.

"Trying to figure out what happened to Meredith, you know, the girl that was killed."

"I'm not that stupid. It was rhetorical."

"Well, what we do know is that the killer walked in and out of the apartment—no weapons, no prints, nothin'," Dean said.

The EMF meter began to beep frantically.

"I'm tellin' ya, the minute I found that article, I knew this was our kind of gig," Sam said.

"Is that why you asked me to read it over before you showed it to Dean?" Elle asked.

"No. I just knew that in order to convince Dean to even come here I was going to have to convince you."

"You used me?" Elle gasped as she rested her hand over the spot where her heart should be.

"Apparently, you're not the only one who knows how to do that," Dean commented as the EMF meter spiked again. "And it looks like you two were right about this one."

"Well, of course I was right. I just can't believe Sammy used me like that. I didn't know he had it in him."

"Right well—uh—Dean, you talk to the cops?" Sam asked slightly uncomfortably.

"Um, yeah," Dean said with a smirk.

"If you can call it that," Elle said sarcastically.

"I spoke to Amy, a—uh, charming perky officer of the law."

"Yeah? What'd you find out?" Sam asked.

"Not much, Dean made me go elsewhere," Elle groaned.

"Not you…him."

"Oh, well, if you must know…she's a Sagittarius. She loves tequila, I mean—wow—oh! And she's got this little tattoo—" Dean started.

"Dean!"

"What? She didn't spill anything we already don't know. Except for the one thing they're keeping out of the papers."

"Which is what?"

"Well, Meredith's…" Dean started.

"Meredith's heart was missing," Elle said before Dean could finish.

"You weren't even part of that conversation—how do you know that?" Dean questioned.

"I can read lips, you know. I had it down to either her heart was missing or her fart was hissing. I made my own judgment call there, a good one, thank you very much."

"Her heart?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, her friggin' heart," Dean grunted.

"So, what do you guys think did this to her?"

"Well, the landlady said it looked like an animal attack, right? Maybe it was a werewolf?"

"No, it can't be a werewolf, the lunar cycle's not right. Plus, if it was a creature it would've left some kind of trace. It's probably a spirit."

Elle stood there looking down at the blood spatters. Something didn't seem right about them. They seemed too—purposeful, was that even a word? They didn't look like they were there by accident. There seemed to be a rhyme and reason to them. She began tracing the blood spatters like they were a dot-to-dot picture with her finger in the air while she looked quizzically at the carpet.

"You got something, don't you?" Dean asked.

"Maybe. Do you see what I'm seeing?" Elle asked Dean.

"Sam, see if you can find any masking tape around."

Dean began ripping the tape in pieces. Elle would grab some tape pieces and place them to connect the dots. After ripping a few pieces off the carpet that Dean had placed down, she told him just to tear the tape while she explained the method to her madness.

"Stop, you're doing it wrong," Elle groaned.

"I know what I'm doing," Dean hissed. "I've done this before."

"No, you don't. Some of these splatter marks are different. Look for the ones that are more circular," Elle said.

"And where did you learn this?" Dean asked.

"It's common knowledge, Dean," Elle retorted before she sighed at the glances both her brothers gave her. "I may or may not watch a procedural crime drama or two when you're asleep."

"You do realize we're not dealing with humans, right?"

"Yeah, I get it—but just do as I say."

"I'm afraid to ask you what else you've learned from TV," Sam commented.

"Don't even get me started on Dora. And that should do it," Elle said as she stood up to stare at her handiwork. It was a rather unusual looking symbol. "Ever seen that symbol before?"

"Never," Dean said.

"Me either," Sam added.

"Well, at least I'm not the only one," Elle sighed.

Knowing that the next step was more research, the Winchesters quickly picked up their tape mess and Elle slipped her shoes back on. Elle swung by the landlady's apartment to thank her before she headed out to the Impala where Sam and Dean were waiting for her. Almost the second she got in the backseat she kicked the stilettos off and slipped on her boots. Dean drove them to the bar where Meredith worked so they could research and he could do some research of another variety. Elle didn't really care, as long as she got a beer out of the deal. Sam, Dean, and Elle brought their clothes inside and changed in the bathroom before they sat down at a rather high table—at least for Elle. Elle was dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and jeans along with her boots. She had pulled her hair out of the bun and replaced it with a ponytail with her hair in kinks from being in the bun. Dean had barely gotten back to the table when he moved to go up to the bar where there was a very attractive woman tending the bar.

"I'll go get the drinks," Dean said with a grin on his face.

"Of course you will," Elle said shaking her head. "Make sure you ask her for your special drink."

"That shit was disgusting."

"Just like you. Don't forget to ask about Meredith, it's kinda why we're here."

"Yeah, yeah…what'd you guys want?"

"I'll just take a draft," Sam added.

"Got it…and you?" Dean asked.

"Surprise me," Elle said with a shrug.

Dean grinned as he walked away toward the bar to flirt with the hot bartender. Elle and Sam sat at the table together as they watched Dean suavely approach the woman.

"You shouldn't have told him that," Sam chuckled. "About your drink that is. He'll probably come back with something terrible."

"If I don't like it, I'll just steal whatever he's drinking and he can have it. Then if he doesn't like it, he gets to go flirt with the bartender again. It'll be a win-win situation," Elle commented.

"You have Dad's journal?"

"Yeah, just give me one second."

Elle dug in her bag because it was buried underneath her business clothes. She pulled it out and dropped it on the table before she absently rubbed at her wrist that had been covered for weeks. It felt good to finally touch skin. Sam asked her how her wrist was doing and she said that it was fine before she scooted her chair closer to Sam's so that they could look through the journal together along with the books Sam had brought from the car. They hadn't found anything that even remotely resembled the symbol by the time Dean got back with the drinks almost forty-five minutes later.

"I talked to the bar tender," Dean said proudly as he set Sam and Elle's drinks in front of them.

"Congratulations," Elle said sarcastically.

"Did you get anything? Besides her number?" Sam continued.

"Dude, guys, I'm a professional. I'm offended that you would think that," Dean said acting offended before he started to grin and held up a napkin with digits scrawled on it. "All right, yeah."

"Dean, you mind doing a little more thinking with your upstairs brain?"

"I agree with, Sam," Elle added.

"Killjoys. Look, there's nothing to find out. I mean, Meredith worked here, she waited tables, and everyone here was her friend. Everybody said she was normal. She didn't do or say anything weird before she died. So what about you two? You find anything about that symbol?" Dean said.

"Nope, we got nothing," Sam said. "We looked in Dad's journal and all the usual books."

"Well, there was a first victim, right? Before Meredith?"

"Yeah, I got that," Elle said as she rummaged through the papers she had stacked. "Uh—his name was uh—Ben Swardstrom. Last month he was found mutilated. Same deal as Meredith, which is creepy as hell."

"Any connections between the two of them?"

"Not that we can tell—" Sam said.

"At least not yet," Elle sighed. "I'm sure there's got to be something."

"But Ben was a banker, Meredith was a waitress. They never met, they never knew anyone in common—they were practically from different worlds."

"This makes my brain hurt."

"So recap—for those of us who weren't nerding-it-up: the only successful intel we've scored so far is the bartender's phone number?" Dean questioned.

Sam suddenly walked away, surprising both Dean and Elle. Was he angry about what Dean had said? Dean called after him, but he didn't respond. Sam just continued to walk away, but Dean and Elle looked at each other quizzically when Sam stopped and tapped a blonde girl on the shoulder.

"Who is she?" Dean asked.

"No idea. You going to hit on her too?" Elle questioned.

"That's not a bad idea."

"I was kidding, Dean!"

"But I wasn't."

"You asshole! Don't you dare!"

Elle grabbed Dean by the collar of his jacket, which choked him for a second before he managed to get away from his little sister's grasp. Dean then followed Sam over to where the pretty blonde girl stood chatting. Elle reluctantly followed after them—only to keep Dean in check, not because she wanted to snoop on Sam. Although, she was curious who she was, but it was easier to be sneaky and get the Intel she wanted by observing from a far. She came into the conversation as the blonde girl finished talking about seeing someone named something Michael Murray at a bar. Which confused Sam, but the girl told him that it didn't really matter and that she was now living in the Chicago area for a while. Dean cleared his throat and nodded his head toward the girl, but Sam didn't respond to him.

"So, you're from Chicago?" Sam asked.

"No, Massachusetts—Andover," the girl responded. "Gosh, Sam, what are the odds that we'd run into each other again?"

"Slim?" Elle muttered before Sam jabbed his elbow backward at her.

"Yeah, I know—I thought I'd never see you again."

"Well, I'm glad that you were wrong," the girl said with a smile.

Dean cleared his throat again, this time quite loud, which startled Elle enough to cause her to jump.

"Dude, cover your mouth," the girl retorted.

"Oh—yeah, um, I'm sorry, Meg…" Sam started.

"So that's her name," Elle said aloud, which made Sam give her a look. "What? I was curious."

"This is my brother, Dean, and my sister, Elle," Sam said uncomfortably.

"I thought you said her name was Campbell," Meg countered.

"It is, but I go by Elle—at least most of the time," Elle responded. "But these two goofballs still manage to make up other nicknames for me."

"And this is Dean?" Meg said completely ignoring Elle's attempt to make light of the situation.

"So you've heard of us?" Dean asked with a grin.

"Oh yeah, I've heard of you two. Nice—the way two treat your brother like luggage."

"Sorry?"

"Well you for starters, Dean, why don't you let him do what he wants to do? Stop dragging him over God's green earth…"

"Hold on, honey," Elle started, attempting to stand-up for Dean and diffuse the situation.

"And you," Meg said turning to Elle. "Why don't you give him what he wants from you? Why are you always choosing the asshat over here? Sam deserves…"

"Hey! You don't even know me, bitch!"

"I know enough, bitch."

"Whoa, Meg, it's all right," Sam said. "And Elle, back-off."

"You're going to defend her?" Elle questioned.

"Okay, awkward. I'm gonna get a drink now," Dean said as he started to head for the bar.

Elle stood there glaring at Meg for a moment until Dean came back for her and dragged her with him back toward the bar. Dean ordered them some kind of shot, which Elle quickly downed before she walked back to the table. Dean followed behind her with two bottles of beer and they sat back down at the table. Elle began to flip through John Winchester's journal, all the while keeping an eye on Sam and his lady-friend.

"You're actually rather entertaining to watch when you're jealous," Dean commented.

"I'm not jealous," Elle hissed.

"No, of course not. I just never get to see this side of you—because usually I'm on the other end of your evil death glare. Being on this end of it is friggin' hilarious."

"Shut up, Dean."

Elle quickly chugged the beer Dean had brought her. He looked at her uneasily—as if she had just committed an egregious sin; but she didn't care. She didn't like this chick and she didn't like Sam with this chick. Elle wanted to gag as Meg flipped her hair to act all flirty and stuff. But then she looked back to Sam and sighed.

"He really must've been really pissed-off to tell her my name was Campbell," Elle sighed. "I'm pretty sure I can count on two hands how many times he's called me that."

"You're worried about your name? I wanna know what other shit he told her. Do you think she has a point?"

"What point?"

"That I drag Sam around unwillingly, holding him against his will?"

"I think that perfect-little Sam can bitch as good as the rest of us, but it doesn't mean that his shit don't stink."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know. I was trying to be philo—philosophicamal."

"How much have you had to drink?"

"Not enough if I have to stay here and watch the two of them."

Elle jumped off the stool to head back to the bar when Dean's hand wrapped around her arm.

"Hey, don't go taking a move from my book. You've had enough," Dean said.

"You're not my dad, Dean," Elle hissed. "I can make my own decisions. If I wanna be pissy and get another drink, then I can be pissy and get another friggin' drink."

"One more, but that's it," Dean groaned. "And get me whatever the hell you're having."

"I'm glad you see things my way Dean-o. Now…to infinity and beyond!"

Elle made spaceship noises as she headed back to the bar, with one hand out in front of her like she was flying through the crowd. Elle told Dean's hot bartender to surprise her with three something strongs. Elle didn't even see Dean motioning the bartender something behind her. Elle downed one drink at the bar before she made her way back to Dean with the other two drinks. On her way back to the table, Elle made racecar noises as she dodged in and out of the people before she slammed the two glasses onto table.

"I'm back," Elle giggled. "Miss me?"

Dean told Elle that her shoes were untied. So, Elle bent down to tie her shoes—but it took her a few moments to notice that she was wearing her Ugg boots which didn't need any tying. When she stood back up, she noticed both glasses were empty and Dean was holding his chest.

"What the hell!" Elle hissed.

"Your liver will thank me in the morning—but mine, however, will not. Holy shit, what the hell did you get?"

"I have no idea."

"I think I just drank pipe cleaner."

"You drank my pipe cleaner. That wasn't very nice you know."

"I'm sorry. You have a seat right here and I'll go get you some more pipe cleaner."

"Aww—such a good big brother," Elle said patting Dean on the cheek.

What Elle didn't know was that Dean wasn't going to get her more to drink when he walked away. He went to go get Sam so that they could get back to the motel. When Dean got back to the table with Sam, Elle was holding the empty glasses in her hands and making them pretend to talk and kiss. Sam looked at her, then at Dean, and back at Elle again. Dean shook his head and then took the glasses out of her hands before he tossed the keys to the Impala to Sam, because neither he nor Elle for that matter should be driving. Elle gave Dean the sad puppy dog eyes with her bottom lip sticking out.

"Not the bottom lip," Dean groaned as he flipped Elle's bottom lip back up and wiped the slobber off his hand. "C'mon, Smelly Ellie."

"Yes, sir! Deanie Weenie!" Elle said putting her hand up in a salute.

"What the hell did you to do her?" Sam questioned as Elle leaned heavily against him giggling.

"Let's just get her to the car before she gets to the puking stage," Dean groaned.

Sam wrapped an arm around buzzed Elle as she began to tell a fairytale…about llamas. When they got close to the Impala Elle stopped walking and puked right there on the sidewalk. Usually, they had more time before she got pukey, but her jealousy must've been contributing to her state. Elle got down to her knees to puke again and Sam got down beside her, to somewhat hold her back while Dean took a few steps backward.

"So, who the hell was she?" Dean asked.

"Is now really the time?" Sam groaned as Elle heaved.

'Now's as good as any."

"I don't really know. I only met her once and meeting up with her again? I don't know, man, it's weird."

"So are llamas," Elle groaned.

"Well, what was she saying about the way I treat you like luggage?" Dean continued ignoring Elle. "What were you bitchin' 'bout me to some chick?"

"Don't forget about me…and the llamas. The llamas don't like when you talk shit behind their backs."

"Guys, I'm sorry. I met her when we all had that huge fight and I was sitting at that bus stop in Indiana. But that's not important, just listen—" Sam started.

"Well is there truth to what she's say? I mean, am I keeping you against your will, Sam?" Dean questioned.

"Answer the question, Sam. The llamas want to know, Sam," Elle said before she puked again.

"Disgusting, you're not allowed to ever drink again," Sam groaned. "And no, of course not, guys. Now, will you both listen to me for a second?"

"Fine," Dean sighed.

"I think there's something strange going on here."

"The llamas think so too," Elle said.

"Will you stop with the llamas?" Dean groaned.

"Dean, were you even listening to me?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, it's strange—she wasn't even into me."

"Not that kind of strange—I mean, like our kind of strange. Like maybe even a lead."

"Why do you say that?"

"LLLllllaaaammmmaaaa," Elle groaned.

"Because, I met Meg weeks ago," Sam started.

"Llama bitch."

"I literally met her on the side of the road and now, I run into her in some random bar in Chicago? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?"

"I don't know man. Contrary to what Elle thinks, random coincidences do happen," Dean sighed.

"Maybe, but not to us. Look, I could be wrong, but I'm just sayin' there's something about this girl that I can't quite put my finger on."

"Well, I'd bet you'd like to. I mean, maybe she's not a suspect, maybe you've just got a thing for her, huh?"

"A thing for llama bitch?" Elle questioned with her eyes wide.

"Maybe you're thinkin a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?"

"Just do me a favor. When you get Elle back to the motel, check and see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts and see if you can't dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith's floor," Sam sighed.

"And what are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna watch Meg."

Dean continued the banter for a little bit before Sam helped Elle to her feet. She and Dean were going to walk back to the motel while Sam used the Impala to spy on Meg. Sam groaned at the fact that Dean kept ribbing him until Dean came over and wrapped his arm around Elle to steady her for their walk. Dean winked at Sam as Elle decided to pick back-up with her llama fairytale. Something about the evil llama bitch this and evil llama bitch that and a princess llama every now and then. Dean just let her continue talking until she had to stop to puke again. He looked away and shook his head.

"I think I barfed on an ant hill. Awesome," Elle groaned.

"You're killin' me, Smalls," Dean groaned. "You're such a lightweight."

It was almost twenty minutes later before they finally got back to the motel. Elle collapsed on the first available bed, which Dean had been using; but he knew better than to argue with drunk Elle. Instead, he got on Sam's computer and started doing some research before he made a few phone calls. When Sam called him to get an update, Dean just let Elle sleep it off; besides, she woke-up half an hour after Sam called to puke. In the darkness, Elle could see Dean sitting at the computer before she ran across the room to the toilet and began to puke.

"Good news, llama bitch checks out and the sign is Zoroastrian," Dean called.

"Who the hell is llama bitch and why are we checking into her?" Elle groaned.

"You're playing with me, right?"

"Hold that thought."

Elle wretched into the toilet once more as Dean walked and leaned against the doorframe into the bathroom.

"So you wanna talk about the Zoroastrian sign or llama bitch?" Dean chuckled.

"The sign," Elle muttered. "I remember that."

"Like I was saying Zoroastrian is very, very, very old school it's…"

"Way before Christ, yeah, I'm not an idiot."

"Says the girl whose face is glued to the toilet. Anyway, it's a sigil for a Daeva—and before you ask 'What's a Daeva, Dean?' I'll tell you what it is, Elle-Belle. It translates to 'demon of darkness' and these demons are savage and animalistic."

"Bobby or Caleb?"

"What?"

"Which one of them did you call? You can't even convince drunk Elle that you're that smart."

"I called Caleb, happy? But here's the kicker, these Daevas have to be summoned and no one's seen 'em for a couple of millennia. Meaning that whoever's doing it, knows there stuff and has gotta be a major player in town."

"Wonderful," Elle groaned sarcastically before she rested her cheek on the toilet bowl seat—not caring about how many friggin' germs were there, but only caring about cooling her burning face.

"Now as far as llama bitch goes…I told Sammy to play nice, if you know what I mean."

"I still can't remember who that is, but that mental image makes me want to puke again."

"Toilet's all yours. I have other business I need to attend to—like a pick-up with Amy."

"Don't bring her back here to have sex while I'm puking," Elle groaned.

"Not that kind of pick-up, you perv," Dean said shaking his head. "She's pulling some files for me. Besides, even if I wanted to bring her back here—you'd ruin the mood."

Elle waved at Dean before she flipped her other cheek to feel the coldness of the toilet seat. Dean shook his head before he put a couple of aspirin on the counter and took off to meet Amy. Elle puked once more before she fell asleep. When Dean returned, he couldn't find Elle at first. She wasn't in a bed and she wasn't by the toilet, but he eventually discovered her in the bathtub of all places. He sighed and lifted his little sister into his arms before he put her back down on his bigger bed and took her boots off, throwing them on the floor before he went back to the table and studied the files on the two deaths. Elle was awakened by both Sam and Dean standing over her. She moaned and pulled the pillow over her pounding head. Dean pulled it off her, so she pulled her blankets up. Sam told her that she had to get up.

"No," Elle groaned. "More sleepy."

"Elle, c'mon, we've got a big break," Dean said. "Sammy says that llama bitch is summoning the Daevas."

"Daevas are bad, right?"

"Yes, c'mon, get up."

"I'm up. But my head is killing me."

"You didn't take the aspirin, did you?"

"No, hand it over."

Dean told Sam to go to the bathroom and get the aspirin from the counter and a plastic cup with water in it. When Sam got back, Elle popped the pills and downed the water before she rubbed her face.

"Start over, please," Elle moaned.

"Meg was using a black altar to control the thing," Sam said.

"Leading us to conclude that Sammy's got a thing for a bad girl," Dean chuckled.

"And there's also this bowl that she was talking into—like witches and crystal balls. She was communicating with someone."

"Who?" Elle questioned as she pulled her ponytail and let her hair fall down freely.

"Maybe the Daevas?" Dean suggested.

"No, you said those things were savages," Sam started. "No, this was someone different. Someone who's giving her orders. Someone who's comin' to that warehouse."

"Holy crap!" Dean shouted.

"Ugh, not so loud," Elle groaned as her hands flew over her ears.

"Sorry. Holy crap," Dean whispered.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Well, I was waiting for you to get back and Elle to wake up, but I pulled a favor with my—uh—friend, Amy, over at the police department. The complete records of the two victims—we missed something the first time."

"What did we miss?" Sam asked.

Dean held up one finger for him to wait a moment as he walked back over to the table and grabbed the files. He apologized in advance before he flipped the lights on, which made Elle pull the hood up on her sweatshirt to try and cover her face. Sam reached over on the bedside table and tossed his sunglasses at Elle which she put on as Dean handed him the files. Still with her eyes somewhat closed beneath the sunglasses, Elle leaned in close to Sam to read the file along with him.

"So, the first victim, the old man—he spent his whole life in Chicago; but he wasn't born here. Look where he was born," Dean said pointing at the page.

"Blurry," Elle muttered.

"Lawrence, Kansas," Sam said almost disbelievingly.

"Mmhmm," Dean agreed before he handed Sam the second file. "Meredith, second victim—turns out she was adopted. Three guesses where she's from."

"Holy crap."

"Yeah."

"Why does everything seem to come back to Lawrence?" Elle groaned. "Why can't it be Las Vegas—Sin City would make more sense."

"Well, let's think about it," Sam started. "Lawrence is where the demon killed Mom…"

"And me."

"You don't really count," Dean chuckled. "You're currently in the land of the living."

"Thanks, you sure know how to make a girl feel…"

"But that's where everything started. So, do you think Meg's tied up with the demon?" Sam asked.

"At this point, I think it's a definite possibility."

"It still doesn't all add up. What's the significance of Lawrence? And how to these Daeva things fit in?"

"Beats me. But I say we trash that black altar, grab Meg—I mean, llama bitch, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation."

"Do you have to call her llama bitch?" Elle groaned.

"It's catchy."

"Guys, I don't think we should tip her off," Sam said getting them back on track. "We've gotta stake out the warehouse. We've gotta see who, or what, is showin' up to meet her. Tonight."

"Is it tomorrow already? And of course, I'm friggin' useless," Elle said.

"You'll just sleep it off, we're going to need you" Dean suggested. "But I'll tell you one thing. I don't think this is something the three of us should be doing on our own."

Elle groaned and fell back against the mattress. She knew what Dean was implying—and there was no way she was in the mood to see John Winchester, especially not in her current state. She would much rather they call Bobby—besides, he was probably closer anyway. Sam left the motel room while Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket. He stared at the phone for a few moments—almost as if he were deciding if it were truly necessary. Maybe now was her chance to convince him.

"Can we not and say we did?" Elle asked.

"Daddy issues aside, we need him," Dean responded.

"I think the three of us can handle whoever this llama bitch is."

"Not if she's tied-up with the demon that killed Mom. Then we're going to need Dad."

"Dean, I don't want to see him."

"Elle, don't you get it?"

"Of course I 'get it' but it doesn't mean that I like it."

"Too damn bad."

Angrily, Elle pulled the pillows and blankets off the floor before she turned the light off and set Sammy' sunglasses on the table. She lay there silently listening—she could hear each of the rings that went unanswered. She heard John Winchester's voicemail message and she heard Dean's message to him. That they had a serious lead on the thing that killed Mom and her and that they wanted Dad to meet them at a warehouse on West Erie. Elle's heart panged with guilt at Dean's final plea for John to get to Chicago as soon as he could. The light suddenly flicked on and then back off as Sammy walked through the door. He apologized to Elle before he shut the door behind him. Elle rolled over on the bed to face him as he carried his duffel bag, which looked overstuffed and oddly shaped compared to normal.

"Do you have a body in there?" Elle asked hoarsely.

"Close, but no," Sam chuckled. "I ransacked the trunk: holy water, every weapon that I could think of, exorcism rituals from about half a dozen different religions. I'm not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything."

"Do you want some help?"

"Go to sleep, Elle," Dean sighed. "We're going to need you sharp—not hungover."

Elle closed her eyes and tried to go to sleep, but her ears and mind were focused on the conversation her brothers were having. Apparently, Sam thought that after tonight was over—everything would be done and he'd get to go back to school. Dean seemed shocked to hear this revelation—he also wasn't so sure that everything would just be over. Elle had to agree with him. Most of what they fought had nothing to do with the demon that had killed…Sam brought her up. Saying that she'd really enjoy school and that Dean shouldn't be taking that away from her. And then Dean exploded: he didn't want Sam nor Elle to leave when this was over. He wanted them to be a family again—all four of them. And then the heartbreaker came: Sam said that it was never going to be that way again and he didn't want it to be. Then there was silence—a rather uncomfortable one. Elle wanted to say something to make it all better, but she didn't have the words. Instead, she just fell asleep as she was told. When she finally woke-up for good, the sun poured in through the curtains and thankfully the she wasn't as sensitive to the light as she was earlier; but it still hurt.

"What time is it?" Elle questioned.

"Three in the afternoon," Dean said. "So, you better friggin' be feeling better."

"Mostly, I guess."

"Well, my hangover cure's on the table. Just don't ask what's in it."

Elle slowly walked over to the table and lifted the plastic cup and brought it up to her nose and sniffed it. Dean should have warned her not to smell it either. With one hand she plugged her nose and shut her eyes before she downed Dean's concoction. When she released her nose and opened her eyes, she wanted to gag at the taste, but instead, she ran to the bathroom and stuck her mouth under the sink to get some water. She then brushed her teeth. Twice. She walked out of the bathroom and sat down in a chair facing away from the window.

"Any word from…" Elle started.

"What do you think?" Dean said grumpily.

"We should've called, Bobby. He would've helped us," Elle retorted.

"Well, it's not Bobby's fight. It's ours and Dad's."

"Sorry, I even said anything."

She sat in the chair awkwardly, pulling her feet onto the chair so that her chin could rest on her knees. Dean slid a couple more aspirin across the table to her which she willingly accepted as they sat in silence. Elle couldn't help but start thinking about Sam and Dean's conversation earlier. What if this was all over tonight? What would she do? Would she stay with Dean? Would she go with Sam? She knew one thing for certain, she'd avoid John Winchester; but beyond that, she hadn't a clue. And what if she got to see the demon that had killed her mother and her? What would she say to it? So many thoughts crossed through her mind, that she didn't even notice Sam come back inside. Dean grabbed the TV remote and turned the TV on. And for the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening, the Winchesters didn't say much—they sat there enjoying television as a normal family did.

About a half an hour before they were supposed to leave, Elle showered and changed her clothes. She pulled on a white tank top and a zip-up hoodie over that, jeans, and her blue Converse. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, to keep her hair out of her face and then she went and sat on her bed until Dean said that it was time for them to go. The Winchesters piled into the Impala with their bags stuffed full of any and everything they could get their hands on that might possibly help them. Elle's heart began to beat a little faster as Dean stopped the car when they got outside the warehouse. This could very well be it. Silently, the Winchesters entered the warehouse—Sammy taking the lead because he knew exactly where they were going. They had to climb up an elevator gate, which Elle somewhat struggled with. Thankfully, Dean was behind her to keep urging her higher and to catch her foot if it slipped. Elle was glad when the climb was over. She followed behind Sam and before Dean as they squeezed into the room with their guns drawn, trying to stay hidden from Meg a.k.a. llama bitch who was muttering something in an ancient language. Sam led them behind some crates. Elle stayed beside him as Dean moved across to another set of crates. All three Winchesters stood there with their guns aimed at Meg—but then the tables turned.

"Guys, hiding's a little bit childish, don't you think?"

Elle, Sam, and Dean looked to each other in surprise. Apparently, they hadn't been as stealthy as they thought they had been. Meg had still spotted them.

"Well, that didn't work out like planned," Dean commented.

"Just figuring that out now?" Elle groaned.

"Why don't you three come out?" Meg commented.

They slowly stepped out from behind the crates.

"Sam, I have to say this puts a real crimp in our relationship," Meg sighed.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Sam added.

"So, where's your little Daeva friend, llama bitch?" Elle questioned before she turned to Dean. "You're right, llama bitch is catchy. Score one for drunk me."

"Watch your language little Winchester," Meg hissed. "And he's around. But you guys do realize those shotguns aren't gonna do you much good, right?"

"Oh, don't worry, sweetheart. The shotgun's not for the demon," Dean added.

"So, who is it, Meg? Who's coming? Who are you waiting for?" Sam questioned.

Meg laughed as she said it was for them. Elle's eyes widened as she felt her gun knocked from her hand. It went flying across the room, as did she—right into the brick wall. She screamed as she could feel her flesh being torn apart across her arms and face. Elle screamed for her brothers, but they were also being attacked. She couldn't even see anything to fight—but she soon faded into blackness. Next thing she knew, Elle was tied to a post, as were Sam and Dean. Her post was in between her brothers' posts. She groggily nodded her head as her wounds felt like they were on fire—while Meg sat at a table in front of them, twirling her hair. Elle turned her head to see her brothers—especially Dean who was glaring at llama bitch.

"Hey, Sam? Don't take this the wrong way, but your girlfriend…is a bitch," Dean grumbled.

"Llama bitch to be exact," Elle said.

"This whole thing was a trap," Sam groaned. "Running into you at the bar, following you here, hearing what you had to way. It was all a set-up, wasn't it?" Meg laughed before Sam continued. "And that the victims were from Lawrence?"

"It doesn't mean anything. It was just something to draw you in, that's all. And it worked," Meg chuckled.

"You killed those people for nothing."

"Baby, I've killed a lot more for a lot less."

"Congratulations, we're so proud," Elle said sarcastically.

"You need to shut the hell up, bitch," Meg hissed as she walked up to Elle. "I don't get it. Why you're up on some pedestal. You're just a weak and pathetic human being."

"Thanks, I'll take that as a compliment."

"Well, you shouldn't," Meg said before she kicked Elle in the stomach, which made Elle double over in pain.

"So what now?" Dean questioned. "Why don't you just kill us already?"

"Not very quick on the update are we?" Meg said as she walked a few steps and leaned in closer to him. "This trap isn't for you."

Sam, Dean, and Elle looked to each other in confusion which made Meg laugh as she walked between the Winchesters. Sam was the first one to put the puzzle together.

"Dad. It's a trap for Dad," Sam hissed.

"Gold star for Sammy," Meg retorted.

"Oh, sweetheart, you're dumber than you look," Dean started with a shake of his head. "'Cause even if Dad was in town, which he isn't, he wouldn't walk into something like this. He's too good."

"He is pretty good. I'll give you that," Meg said before she straddled Dean. "But you see, he has one weakness."

"What's that?"

"You three. He lets his guard down around his kiddos, lets his emotions cloud his judgment. And I happen to know that he is in town—and he'll come and try to save you three. Then the Daevas will kill everybody—nice and slow and messy."

"One problem, you might wanna rethink this plan with me on your list," Elle groaned. "I don't mean shit to John Winchester."

"My sources say otherwise," Meg said with a smirk before she slid off Dean and crawled toward Elle. "You're the worst of the three, bitch."

"Then honey, you might wanna tell those sources that crack kills. Because your sources don't know shit about shit."

"Are you truly that naïve?"

"No, that would be you if you think a shadow is gonna kill my Dad," Dean said interrupting the girls conversation.

"But the Daevas are already in the room here—waiting. You see, they're invisible and the only part you can see are their shadows."

Was it really going to end like this? All the Winchesters trapped and killed? She had to admit, she never had really given much thought to how she wanted to go—but she certainly didn't want to go with John Winchester. Sam began to question why Meg was going this. She told him that it was for the same reasons he was: loyalty and love. Meg went as far as to bring their mother and Jess into the mix—to which Sam responded by telling her to go to hell. Meg laughed that she was already there before she crawled across the floor toward Sam. The llama bitch then straddled Sam—which made Elle want to puke. She turned her head toward Dean who motioning his head toward his hands where he had pulled out his knife and was cutting away at the rope while he told Sam and Meg to get a room as Meg began kissing Sam. Elle reached in her back pants pocket for the pocket knife that Dean and Sam had given her for her thirteenth birthday. Elle got the thing opened and began to saw at the rope, when she dropped the knife. It clanked on the floor causing Meg to look over in her direction and then at the knife. Meg stood up and kicked Elle's knife along with her hands—causing a few knuckles to crack—fingers even to break before she walked over and did the same thing to Dean. She gave Elle one last kick before she returned to straddling Sam.

"Now were you trying to distract me why your brother and sister cut free?" Meg questioned as she pressed her lips against Sam's ear.

"No. No. That's because I have a knife of my own, llama bitch," Sam hissed before he pulled his arms free and then headbutted Meg.

Meg fell over in pain beside Elle. So Elle, still tied up, gave the llama bitch a swift kick of her own as Dean shouted for Sam to get the altar. Sam ran over to the altar and pushed the thing over so that all its contents went spilling onto the floor. The Daeva suddenly appeared and grabbed Meg. Elle couldn't help but watch as she was dragged across the floor before being tossed out the window. She heard the sound of the thud onto the street as Sam came over and cut her and Dean free. Sam helped Elle into a standing position and the three Winchesters walked over to the window llama bitch had fallen out of—looking down at Meg sprawled out on the ground, dead.

"So, I guess the Daevas didn't like being bossed around," Sam commented.

"I wouldn't like being bossed around by llama bitch either," Elle added. "Not to speak ill of the dead or anything, but she does kinda look like a llama lying like that."

"Only you would notice that, Elle-Belle," Dean sighed as he wrapped an arm around her. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?" Sam asked.

"Next time you wanna get laid, find a girl that's not so buckets-o-crazy, huh?"

They all chuckled before they picked up their supplies and headed back to the Impala—hopefully, for a good night's rest. Elle put her gun in the inseam pocket of her zip-up hooded sweatshirt. Her arms and cheeks ached from where the Daeva had scratched her; but thankfully, that was the only damage done. When they got back to the motel, all three Winchesters were exhausted as they slowly walked down the hallway toward their room. Dean made fun of Sam for carrying the bag full of every weapon they owned, but Sam responded that he'd rather be safe than sorry. Elle unlocked the door and as she entered she saw a shadow lurking near the door. She immediately pulled her gun out of her jacket and fired off a round before Dean could stop her.

"Elle, it's Dad," Dean hissed before he turned the lights on and forced Elle to lower her gun.

"It's not like he didn't deserve it," Elle muttered.

Dean elbowed Elle in the ribs as John Winchester closed the gap between them by a few steps, before stopping short once again and staring at his children.

"Hey, guys," John said softly.

Dean immediately walked up to his father and enveloped him in a long hug. Sam stood there watching sadly, while Elle folded her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes. Of course he had to come, didn't he? Why couldn't he have just left them alone? They had managed to get out on their own, hadn't they? As Dean and Dad pulled apart, the oldest Winchester turned toward Sam.

"Hi, Sam," John said with a smile.

"Hey, Dad," Sam responded.

They didn't hug, but they looked at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time before John turned toward Elle. Elle rolled her eyes and moved to turn away, but Sam took hold of her arm and turned her toward John. John nodded his head.

"Campbell."

"And how exactly do you want me to respond to that? I think we both know that a 'Hey, Dad, great to see you,' is never gonna happen," Elle retorted. "Besides, it's not like you'd want to hear that anyway, John."

For a brief second, he almost looked hurt—but Elle was pretty sure that she was seeing things.

"Elle," Dean hissed.

"I'm sorry, but this is a family reunion I want no part in. If you guys want your happy reunion, fine; but leave me out of it."

Elle marched over to the kitchen cabinets that this motel room had and began searching through them—for something, anything to do to keep her away from John Winchester. She was surprised to find a package of microwave popcorn. She quickly unwrapped it and popped it into the microwave to keep her occupied away from John Winchester as Dean explained the situation to him. Apparently, her father was close to finding whatever it was that killed her mother…and her, not that it really mattered to the man. Elle's eyes focused on the microwave, watching the popcorn packet spin inside when she heard her father talk about the fight he had with Sam. Sure, apologize to Sam—but don't breathe a word about being a complete ass the last time he saw her. She felt angry tears beginning to sting at her eyes and it was made even worse when she turned around to see her father hugging Sam. A sign of affection—one that she had always wanted.

She then felt something slice at her throat—just barely missing her main artery, but it didn't stop Elle from falling to the floor. Someone shouted her name, but she couldn't have been sure which one it was. She lay there on the floor clutching her throat as the slashes continued to come—but what surprised her the most was they heavy weight of her father landing on top of her. She tried to push him off her; but he wouldn't get up budge. She longer felt any slashing at her body, but instead just the weight of John Winchester, who was taking the brunt of the attack from the Daevas. Elle wasn't sure what Sam did, but suddenly he shouted for them to cover their eyes before a blinding light lit up the room.

"Sammy," Elle sighed before she fainted.

A rough pair of arms picked her up, but it wasn't Sam's arms she was in. No, she was in the arms of her father who struggled to carry her inside the smoky, bright room that smelled of burning popcorn. He shifted his daughter in his arms which caused him to groan in pain from his own wounds. Dean called for them—and John said that he was coming. He took a few steps before he stopped to readjust Elle once more—and to look at her. Really look at her. He felt tears stinging at his eyes—and it wasn't from the bright flashing light. John looked around to make sure no one was looking before he quickly brushed a kiss against Elle's bloodied cheek.

"Damnit, kid."

John then hobbled out of the room, carrying Elle in his arms. Once outside, he quickly handed Elle over to Sam, before he almost collapsed against Dean. Sam stood there, holding his unconscious sister in his arms. Elle's eyes fluttered open for a moment to look up and see Sam holding her.

"Elle, you okay?" Sam whispered.

"Thank you for getting me out of there, Sammy," Elle mumbled before she passed out again.

John turned away for a moment—attempting to mask any emotion he was feeling as far as Elle was concerned. He needed to shut it off. It was for her own good. Sam then set her down in the backseat of the Impala and made her comfortable with her pillow and stuffed Tigger. When Sam got out of the car, he was confused as to why Dean was saying goodbye to their father. He wanted them all to stick together, but Dean argued against it. Dean realized how truly vulnerable they made John.

"Dad—after everything—after all the time we spent looking for you—please. I gotta be part of this fight," Sam said to his father.

"Sammy, this fight is just starting. And we're gonna all have a part to play. For now, you've got to trust me son. Let me go," John responded.

Sam slowly nodded his head before he patted his father's arms.

"Elle—uh—your sister's going to need her wounds looked at," John muttered. "You should get her there quickly."

"Yes, sir," Dean responded.

"Be careful, boys, and when she wakes up, you tell her that if I call her, I expect her to answer."

Those were John Winchester's parting words before he hopped into his truck and peeled out of the parking lot. Sam and Dean watched for a moment before they quickly hopped into the Impala to find the closest emergency room to get Elle patched up. Dean backed out of their spot and then onto the street, before driving away. The boys quickly got Elle inside, where they were asked many questions as Elle was admitted for her injuries. Elle awoke to find herself in a hospital bed hooked up to an IV with Sam sleeping on the hospital bed beside hers and Dean sitting in the chair next to her.

"Hey," Elle croaked.

"Hey," Dean said with a smile. "If they ask, it was a savage beast named Toto."

"Where—where's he?"

"Dad? He's gone."

"Good riddance, I say."

Dean bit his tongue for a moment. He had wanted to make a comment about it being their father who had saved her from the building; but he decided against it. Instead he just handed her a cup of ice chips for her dry throat and explained that she was going to be kept for observation overnight for her neck injury and severe dehydration—which they both knew was from the alcohol consumption the night before. Dean turned the TV on and they watched old time TV shows, until Elle fell back asleep and drifted off into her dreamland. Once again, she was at her least favorite nighttime lake scene.

"I thought I told you to be careful," the voice resounded.

"And I thought you were supposed to save my ass," Elle retorted.

"I have other duties."

"Fan-freaking-tastic. Now, if you don't mind, I have better dreams to get back to."

"Campbell."

"What is it now?"

"Heed my warnings."

Elle wanted to say something else smart-alecky, but she wasn't given the chance. Instead, her eyes flashed open to find Dean asleep in an uncomfortable position beside her. She sighed and looked around the room—between both her brothers. Somehow, someway, everything seemed different. Everything had changed.


	18. Hell House

Elle Winchester opened her eyes slowly. She had been trying to take a nap. Instead, she had simply just lay across the backseat of the Impala with her eyes closed for twenty minutes lost in her thoughts. She couldn't help but think of her father after what had just happened in Chicago. Yet again, John Winchester had proved to be an ass. He hadn't stayed to make sure she was okay or anything. She still had the bandage on her neck from where the Daeva had sliced her open. She had to admit that she had anger that burned toward him. What if Sam and Dean hadn't been there? Would he have just left her there? She was thankful that Sam had come to her rescue—despite the fact that John had been closer to her. That ass had probably purposely fallen on top of her out of spite. By this point in her thoughts, Elle's fists were clenched tightly. She just had so much built-up anger and aggression toward her father—which was a fight she seemed to be fighting alone. If it was directed at llama bitch, she knew her brothers would join her—but there was something about John Winchester that her brothers just didn't see her way.

Elle slowly sat up and rubbed the bandage on her neck as she looked outside. Texas. Miles and miles of Texas. It was obviously the second biggest state for a reason. She reached down for her sketchbook, but she honestly didn't feel like drawing. She flipped through the pages to find a new drawing of a llama and another sketch of one of the silly pics she had taken with Missy. It was funny how so much could change in a matter of weeks—well, not exactly funny, but one should get the point. She dropped her sketchbook back to the floor before she leaned forward and flicked Dean behind the ear as he was driving. He shouted and momentarily swerved the car, but surprisingly Sammy stayed sleeping.

"What the hell?" Dean hissed.

"I'm so bored," Elle groaned.

"What about your Pokémon thing?" Dean asked. "Shut up, play that, and leave me alone."

"You know, I would, but someone was up last night playing it and it drained my batteries."

"Damnit, Sammy. That wasn't very nice."

"It wasn't Sam. It was you."

"No, it wasn't. You're seeing things. I wouldn't play some nerdy game like that."

"Really? Is that why I woke up to you screaming 'Damnit, Pikachu! You have failed me.'?"

"Nightmares."

"Yeah, right."

"Exactly, I am right, now shut your mouth."

"Just admit it and this conversation will be over."

"Never."

"You're such a loser sometimes. Next time we see a gas station, can we stop? I have to pee."

"How long can you hold it?"

"Why?"

"Because it's gonna be awhile before we hit anything civilized."

"Damnit."

"I can pullover."

"I'm not like you and can just whip it out whenever I want."

"So, you're going to hold it?"

"I didn't say that," Elle muttered.

Dean looked back at his little sister who motioned with her hands for Dean to pull over. He smirked before he slowed the car down and eventually put it in park on the shoulder of the road. Elle grabbed the box of tissues from the backseat and something else from her bag before she got out of the car. She walked a few steps before she turned around and leaned against the car by Dean's open window. Elle snapped her fingers at Dean so that he pushed his sunglasses up and looked at her.

"Don't. Move," Elle said slowly.

"Got it," Dean responded.

"I mean it, Dean."

"I mean it, Dean." Dean mocked.

Elle flicked him behind the ear again before she walked into the grassy ditch area—attempting to find a place with coverage from the road behind the Impala. Just when she finally had herself situated she heard the car's engine roar to life. Elle's head whipped back to see the car slowly moving forward.

"Damnit, Dean!"

She had to hold her pants up as she ran after the car. Dean was laughing his ass off when he finally came to a stop while Elle's face was contorted in anger.

"You jackass!" Elle seethed. "I told you…"

"I'm sorry," Dean chuckled. "I couldn't resist. It was too good of an opportunity."

"No! You picked the worst possible time ever!"

"It was still priceless."

"Oh, you just wait."

"What exactly am I waiting for?"

"You really think I'm stupid enough to tell you?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm not and that move wasn't original. You stole it from Tommy Boy which we watched last night."

"That just makes it classic."

"And that just makes me hate you."

"At least everything is right in the world now."

Elle sneered at her brother before she slipped back into the car. How Sammy had remained asleep during that entire exchange was beyond her. Dean winked back at Elle before he pulled the car into drive once more. A Blue Oyster Cult song that Dean liked came on and he went to turn the volume up, but Elle smacked at his hand before she motioned with her head over to Sam who was sleeping with his mouth wide open.

"Good point, another good opportunity," Dean said.

"What are you going to do to him?" Elle groaned.

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"Nothing…harmful."

Dean pulled a plastic spoon from somewhere in the front seat and placed it in Sam's mouth. He then tossed his phone back to Elle so that she could take a picture of the two of them. Elle retorted that Dean should keep his eyes on the road—to which Dean responded that she better take the picture quickly then otherwise they could end up in the ditch. Elle rolled her eyes, knowing that it wasn't true because Dean would never put Baby in harm, but she still flipped open his phone and took the picture. To piss him off, she made sure that her finger managed to photobomb the scene. With a grin on his face, Dean turned his full attention back to the road after he heard the camera click sound come from his phone. Elle flipped his phone closed and tossed in the front seat when Dean turned the music up incredibly loud. Elle covered her ears with her hands and screamed. She wasn't sure what woke Sam up-the music or her scream-but he awoke suddenly and was quite confused by the spoon in his mouth. He swatted at it before he pulled it out and threw it at Dean.

"Which one of you was it?" Sam hissed.

"Really? You would know if I did something to you," Elle scoffed.

"True. So very funny, Dean."

"There's not a lot of scenery here in East Texas, so you gotta make your own. Already got Elle—it was your turn. Keep things fair, you know?" Dean responded.

"Dean, we're not kids anymore. We're not going to start that crap up again."

"Start what up?"

"That prank stuff. It's stupid and it always escalates."

"What's the matter, Sammy? Scared you're going to get a little Nair in your shampoo again?"

"Fine. Just remember you started it."

"Bring it on, baldy."

"And both of you remember that I'm staying out of this," Elle groaned.

"Yeah, right," Sam and Dean said simultaneously.

"I am—I always get stuck in the middle and end up getting pranked double. So keep this between you two."

Elle rolled her eyes before she threw her hair up in a messy bun while Sam asked them where they were. They were still a few hours outside of Richardson where they had a gig. Sam hadn't really given her or Dean many details about the case. All they knew was there was some sort of local haunted house in Richardson that they were looking in to. Dean told Sam to give them a few more detail, which he seemed rather reluctant to do so. The fact that Sam hadn't told her what was going on was somewhat suspicious. It meant that he didn't think she would believe the details or there was something she really wasn't going to like. When he finally gave in, she could see why he thought she wouldn't like it.

"What's this thing supposed to be haunted by?" Elle asked.

"Apparently it's a pretty misogynistic spirit. Legend goes that it takes girls and strings them up by the rafters and this group of kids saw this dead girl hanging in the cellar," Sam explained.

"Yeah, I see why you didn't tell me last night before Dean agreed to stop—because I'm going to die if this thing really is what you say it is."

"You're not going to die," Dean grumbled.

"It just kills girls and neither of you happen to have female reproductive organs last time I checked. I'm the one who has the boobs."

"You've got Sammy and me."

"Oh goodie, my knights in shining armor. I'm toast. Dead meat."

"Anybody ID the corpse?" Dean said changing the subject.

"Well, that's part of the thing—by the time the cops got there, the body was gone. So the cops are saying the kids were just yanking their chains," Sam said.

"Maybe the cops are right."

"I think the cops are right," Elle retorted.

"You're just saying that because you don't want to go inside the house," Sam groaned.

"Somebody's gotta worry about my ass."

"Back to the missing corpse," Dean said. "God, this is weird getting us back on track. At least we know now that it's Elle who is always getting us off track."

"Ha. Ha. Funny."

"Well, there were a couple of firsthand accounts from some of the kids. They seemed pretty sincere," Sam said.

"Where'd you read these accounts?" Dean asked.

Sam ruffled his hair looking between Dean and Elle.

"He's stalling," Elle commented.

"He is," Dean agreed.

"I am not," Sam argued.

"Then where'd you find them?" Elle said.

"You know—well—uh—last night at the motel I knew we were going to be passing through Texas. So—um, last night I surfed some local…paranormal websites. And I found a gig."

"Can you repeat that last part, but slower?" Dean questioned.

"Don't worry, I can translate into Dean," Elle teased. "He said that he was looking at paranormal websites and found one."

"Huh, what's it called?"

"Hellhoundslair .com," Sam said looking out the window.

"Lemme guess, streaming live out of Mom's basement?" Dean scoffed.

"Yeah, probably."

"You do realize that 99% of those websites are just people looking for attention," Elle retorted.

"Maybe you should start one," Dean suggested. "Unless, you already have one. But I suppose if you had two you'd get twice the attention."

"I know how to get attention from you two morons, thank you very much."

"Guys, look, we let Dad take off, which was a mistake, by the way," Sam started getting them back on track.

"More like the best decision we've ever made," Elle scoffed.

Sam looked at Elle in confusion. Was she really that ungrateful that John saved her life despite being hurt terribly himself? He opened his mouth to say something, but Dean smacked him in the chest and shook his head. Apparently, they were hiding this from Elle? Sam sighed before continuing that they had time to stop and check the place out since they weren't hunting with Dad.

"All right, so where do we find these kids?" Dean asked.

"Have you ever seen Friday Night Lights?" Elle questioned.

"I think what Elle means is that they shouldn't be too hard to find in a town like this," Sam added.

"I'm still waiting for one of you to enlighten me," Dean grumbled.

Once in Richardson, the Winchester pulled up to a fast food place called Rodeo Drive that looked slammed with customers. The place was quite packed with teenagers, which made Elle slightly cringe. Teenagers were probably her least favorite kind of humans. She got along with the occasional one, but she really had to force herself…or at least that's what she told herself. Dean always joked that it was because she was still in an angst-ridden teenage stage herself, which she didn't find in the least bit humorous. The Winchesters got out of the Impala and Dean pushed Elle toward the restaurant.

"What the hell?" Elle hissed.

"We need you to translate the teenage angst," Dean joked.

"Funny. You're hilarious. You really should have your own stand-up act."

"And that right there is exactly why he volunteered you," Sam chuckled.

"Shut up. You're not as far removed as you'd like to think."

"Just walk."

Elle rolled her eyes as she pushed her way through the glass doors. The place was packed with teenagers: making-out teenagers, sobbing teenagers, fry-flinging teenagers, and just about any kind of teenager imaginable. In all honesty, very few adults were actually in the building and the thought made Elle groan. Sure, she had already had to subject herself to playing a teenager a few months ago—but that was different, they had a case. This was them trying to figure out if they had a case. Completely and totally different.

"Can you smell the teenage desperation?" Dean asked with a chuckle. "So which ones you think we're looking for?"

"Probably Thing One and Thing Two over there with the Crying Girl," Elle commented.

"Looks about right. Let's go have ourselves a little talk."

"Dean and I will split the boys, Elle you take the girl," Sam suggested.

"Maybe we should bring a peace offering," Elle added.

"Elle, they're teenagers, not Greek gods," Dean scoffed.

"Close enough."

Sam chuckled at Elle's response as they walked closer to the teenagers. The girl was leaning her head against one of the boys who had on one of those white paper hats, like he worked at the place. He nudged the girl and said her name. The girl straightened up as Dean stopped at their table and nodded his head in their direction.

"We're reporters with the Dallas Morning News," Dean said. "I'm Dean, this is Sam, and this is Elle."

"Like the letter 'L'?" one of the boys asked, puzzled.

"No, E-L-L-E," Elle spelled because the mistake happened more frequently than it should.

"What she said," Dean said with a smile. "We were wondering if you could point us in the right direction of those teenagers who visited the haunted house not too far from here."

"What do you want with them?" the boy with the funny hat asked.

"Just to ask a few questions—for our story."

"My colleague did mention that we're from Dallas, right? You know one of the biggest…" Sam started.

"It's us," the girl said.

"Obviously," Elle muttered before Dean kicked her in the shin.

"Now then, how about we divide and conquer. Seems to be the most efficient way to go about things," Sam said.

The teenagers split up with each of the Winchesters. The girl seemed hesitant to go with Elle, who wasn't very enthused with the task ahead of her. But she could easily read that she was losing the girl, so Elle suggested that they go stand in line to get shakes. The girl seemed to immediately open up as they stood in line. Dean deserved a big fat I told you so.

"So, what happened?" Elle asked.

"Well, my idiot boyfriend and his friend thought it would be fun to go to this house, but OMG it was the most terrifying thing I've ever saw in my life. We got inside and everything was so dark—but there was painting on the walls and it was in blood."

"And why would you say that?"

"I think I know what blood looks like. I've watched so many horror movies, like I can't even count how many."

"You do realize that's fake blood, right?"

"It was blood, believe me."

"All right, fine, whatever. What was painted on the walls?"

"I don't know. I had my eyes closed the whole time."

"But you just said…"

"What'll it be?" the boy behind the register asked.

"What do you want?" Elle asked the girl.

"Strawberry," the girl responded.

"Strawberry shake it is then…and a chocolate shake. Can't really go wrong with chocolate."

"That'll be $5.18," the boy behind the counter said holding out his hand.

Elle pulled a twenty dollar bill out of her pocket and handed it the kid. The register dinged before he handed Elle back her change. He then motioned for them to wait underneath the pick-up window. Elle attempted to give the teenage girl a smile before the two girls slowly meandered toward the other window.

"So where were we?" Elle asked.

"Shouldn't you be writing this down or something?" the girl asked.

"I—uh—have a voice recorder on my phone," Elle said, even though she wasn't recording it.

"You're recording everything?"

"Yeah, it helps give a certain ambiance to the piece, you know?"

"Well, anyway, we got downstairs and it was so horrible. There was this poor girl with red hair hanging from the ceiling. Just hanging there."

"I assumed as much when you said she was hanging," Elle muttered. "But—uh—what else can you tell me about this girl?"

"She was real, I just know it. Stuff like that can't be fake. I mean, I've seen horror movies, you know?"

Elle really wanted to say something snarky to the girl, but she bit her tongue instead and refrained. Luckily, their milkshakes showed up on the counter and Elle took hers before handing the strawberry one over. Elle took a sip out of hers and sighed before she turned toward the girl—whose name she still hadn't asked.

"Okay."

"And then we ran like hell. I thought the thing was going to get me next, you know, being the only girl."

"Right…and how did you even find out about this place in the first place?"

"This guy Craig took us there. Worst decision ever."

"So say I was going to find this Craig guy—you know, for fact-checking. Where would I be able to find him?"

"He works at the music store downtown."

"All right, thanks so much for your time."

"Aren't you even going to ask me my name?"

"Nope."

"What kind of reporter are you?"

"One who already knows your name, Amanda."

The girl's eyes widened as Elle raised her eyebrows at the girl before sucking on the straw to her milkshake again. Sometimes being quiet and perceptive could have its advantages—this was definitely one of those occasions. Elle then saw Sam motioning her over as the boy he was talking to had to get back to work. She slowly walked over to her brother's table and sat down while they both waited for Dean to get back over.

"So—uh—I know that it's still a couple weeks away, but I was wondering what you wanted for your birthday," Sam said.

"A new life?" Elle said with a shrug. "A new father. A living mother. An actual house. A normal life."

"You know what I mean."

"But I do want all those things."

"Elle…"

"Honestly, I don't know. I hate being asked that question."

"You do realize that normal people get that question all the time, right?"

"Fine—surprise me. It can't be any worse than what Dean got me for my eighteenth birthday."

"What'd he get you?"

"His used copy of Busty Asian Beauties."

"You're joking, right?"

"Does it look like I'm joking?"

"What a dick," Sam laughed.

"That's Dean for you. I think I got deodorant and socks too—but those weren't as mentally scarring."

"What's mentally scarring?" Dean asked as he sat down at the table.

"You."

"I think you mean mentally awesome."

"No, I didn't."

Dean smirked and ruffled at Elle's hair as the Winchesters went over the details they had been given. Nothing really matched up at all—aside from the fact there was a creepy house and a girl. Teenagers. Elle continued to sip her milkshake as Sam and Dean hashed out more details from the boys. When they had finished, Dean looked visibly frustrated as he ran his fingers through his hair and even Sam gave a rather loud sigh of discontentment.

"Now what?" Elle asked.

"I think you mean, now who," Sam said.

"Craig," the three Winchesters said simultaneously.

"At least they all got something right," Dean muttered shaking his head.

"So we can get out of here, right?" Elle asked.

"You know—seeing that shake, makes me want one."

"You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?"

"Ass. If you need me I'll be in the car."

Elle moved to march out to the car when she spilled her milkshake down the front of some teenager's shirt who cursed loudly at her. Dean laughed at her expense, as she pushed past the angered teen toward the door. She knew she was being moody—probably more so than normal. But it was just that time when crabby Elle should be expected—and what made it worse was that her chocolate shake was wasted on some kid's shirt. She slipped into the backseat of the Impala and pulled out some chocolate she had stashed on the floor. The backseat really was quite a mess. Dean was probably going to get on her case for letting it get so messy, but she could care less at this point. It would get cleaned…eventually. She supposed for a moment that it was a good thing she lived on the road. She would never be able to keep a house clean and tidy or fully-stocked with food. In a way, life like this was almost easier. Almost—if you forgot about all the monsters, ghosts, and demons.

About forty-five minutes later, much to Elle's disgust, they finally pulled up to the music shop where the guy named Craig worked. The Winchesters walked in to the store to find Craig standing behind the counter asking them if they needed help finding anything. Knowing that she was crabby, Elle tried to keep her mouth shut—otherwise she might put their cover in jeopardy; but she really wanted to punch the Craig guy every time he checked her out. Thankfully, their guise at reporters seemed to distract him for a minute. Sam explained that they were interested in doing their article on local hauntings and Craig seemed to know exactly what they were talking about—although he seemed to backtrack for a minute. So, Sam suggested that the kid tell them the story. Craig looked around hesitantly for a second before he looked to Elle and nodded his head.

"All right, well, supposedly back in the 30s there was this farmer named Mordachai Murdoch who used to live in this house with his six daughters…" Craig started. "It was during the Depression, his crops were failing, he didn't have enough money to feed his own children. So I guess that's when he went off the deep end."

Sam questioned how before Craig continued talking.

"Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quick, rather than starve to death…"

"How nice of him," Elle muttered.

"It gets worse. He attacked them. They screamed, begged for him to stop, but he just strung 'em up, one after the other. And when he was all finished he just turned around and hung himself. Now they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside."

"Where'd you hear all this?" Dean asked.

"My cousin Dana told me. I don't know where she heard it from. Ya gotta realize, I—I didn't believe this for a second."

"But now you do?" Sam questioned.

"I—I don't know what the hell to think, man. You guys, I—I'll tell you exactly what I told the police, ok? That girl was real. And she was dead. This was not a prank, I swear to God. I don't wanna go anywhere near that house ever again, ok?"

Sometime later, the Winchesters found themselves outside the supposed Hell House—on a muddy path toward the house. Elle tried to stay out of the mud, but it seemed inevitable that her Converse were going to get dirty. She pulled her flannel shirt tighter around her Beatles t-shirt as she followed behind her brothers closer toward the house that wasn't going to win lawn of the month or anything. The place definitely had a rustic and unkempt feel to it. Dean pulled out the EMF meter out of his pocket which started making sounds.

"You're getting something this far out?" Elle asked.

"I don't think it has to do with the house," Dean said before he pointed overhead to the power lines. "I think that thing's still got a little juice in it and it's screwing with the readings."

"You really think this place could afford to have electricity during the Depression?"

"Does it look like I have the records on me?"

"Guys, let's just go inside and check the place out," Sam suggested.

"Oh, hell, no," Elle retorted. "If the rumors are true, I'm going to be the strung up and killed, not you two idiots… which is completely unfair by the way."

"Elle, you really think we'd let that happen?"

"You? No. Dean? Maybe."

"Sounds accurate," Dean chuckled.

"See what I mean?"

"You'll be fine," Sam said shaking his head.

"Says the boy who doesn't have boobs or a vagina."

"That you know of," Dean teased.

"Shut up, Dean," Sam said rolling his eyes. "Let's go."

As they approached the house, Elle wrapped her hand around Sam's arm—refusing to let go. She was going to go all Titanic on his ass—only she really wasn't going to let go. As they got inside, they started looking around. It was obvious that some of the symbols were done in spray paint and that there was a sign that didn't crop up until the 60s. So far, this whole Murdoch thing seemed to be a pile of crap. Dean came to a stop at a symbol that looked like a cross with a dot in the middle, but the bottom stoke appeared to be an upside down question mark. The oldest Winchester sibling rubbed at the symbol—realizing that it was just paint. Elle slightly loosened her grip on Sam's arm.

"I hate to say I told you so but this doesn't look like a case," Elle said.

"Is that why you're still clinging to Sammy for dear life?" Dean asked.

"It's just 'cuz he's my favorite brother."

"Right…well, I'm going to have to agree with Elle and the authorities on this one. There's nothing here."

"Yeah, maybe," Sam sighed.

A sudden crashing sound came from further in the house. Elle jumped before she clung on to Sam's arm tighter, digging her nails into his arm which made him groan in pain. Dean nodded toward the door and his siblings followed closer to the door. Sam and Elle stood on one side of the door and Dean on the other.

"Elle, get the door," Dean whispered.

"That would involve me letting go of Sam and dying," Elle hissed.

"Here, have a flashlight."

Dean tossed the flashlight at Elle which she caught with both hands—almost dropping the thing to the ground.

"Look at that—you let go and you're not dead," Dean commented.

"Yet," Elle muttered.

Elle took a deep breath before she turned the door handle and pushed the door open. She wasn't prepared for the blinding lights in her eyes. She quickly moved her arms to face head to shield her face so that she could see what she was up against. She could see two figures moving and then one spoke as she tried to back the hell-up to find Sam.

"Oh, cut—it's just a couple of humans," said the guy with dark hair.

"Correction—two average looking, overgrown humans and a hottie with a rockin' body," said a dorky looking guy with thick glasses.

"That's my sister you're talking about," Dean growled as he pushed himself between the figures and Elle, keeping an arm around her possessively.

"Well your sister is a fine looking specimen, muchacho; but you my good sir, are an idiot for bringing her to this place."

"I told him the exact same thing," Elle scoffed.

"Now, what're you guys and the angel doing here?"

"She ain't no angel, believe me," Dean scoffed. "But I think we could ask you the same question. What the hell are you two doing here?"

"Ha! You hear that? He's asking us what we're doing here. We belong here, dude, we're professionals."

"Professional what? Douchebags?"

"Paranormal investigators, smart guy," the guy scoffed before he pulled business cards out of his pocket and handed one to each of the Winchesters—taking extra-long to hand Elle hers. "There you go, take a look at that boys—and you, too, mademoiselle'."

"I—uh—" Elle fumbled to find the right words. "Ew."

"Stop talking 'bout my sister that way," Dean hissed.

"We're just appreciating the big guy's handy work."

"Oh my god," Elle groaned.

"Guys, please?" Sam interrupted. "It's making all of us uncomfortable."

"Fine, but she's still hot," the first guy said.

"You've got to be kidding me," Dean groaned.

"So you guys would be…" Sam started.

"Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spangler—at least according to these handy dandy business cards," Elle finished.

"The guys that run that website Hellhoundslair .com?"

"That'd be us, I'm Ed," the guy named Ed said before turning toward Elle. "Here for your viewing pleasure."

"Dude!" Dean hissed. "Do you want me to kick your ass?"

"I'm not really into that kind of thing. Well, unless she is."

"What the hell, man!" Sam jumped in.

"I told you that pot was a bad idea," the other guy said before he started laughing.

"Or maybe it's heightened my perception," Ed said.

"Some professionals you guys are," Elle scoffed.

"Au contraire. You guys are the amateurs just looking for ghosts and cheap thrills, but I can teach you a thing or two."

"You know what? As much as I would love to—I have really bad cramps. But I'm sure these two buttmunches would love to hear how professional you two are."

Elle gave her brothers a big thumbs-up when Ed and Harry's backs were to her; to which Sam and Dean responded exactly the way she had hoped they would. This made her laugh quietly as she left. She was glad to get back to the car, because she really was having cramping issues, but to try and ignore them, she decided to draw. She purposely drew a terrible picture, with stick figures, labeling them "Perv 1 aka Ed" and "Perv 2 aka Harry" and called them professional perverts. Elle's sketchbook had been carelessly tossed to the floor by the time Sam and Dean got back to the Impala. Dean didn't look very happy about things, but Elle just shrugged it off as she ate some chocolate. The boys got into the car when Dean turned around and gave Elle a look.

"What?" Elle asked with her mouth full of chocolate.

"I thought you weren't getting in on this prank thing," Dean groaned as he got in the car.

"I'm not. That's between you two," Elle remarked.

"Sure coulda fooled me with what you pulled back there."

"That was me being me. If I'm going to get you—I would do it way better than that."

"I'm shakin' in my boots."

"You probably should be, man," Sam laughed. "Do you remember that one time…"

"No."

"You didn't even let me finish."

"No."

"Poor, Baby," Elle laughed.

"We're not going there."

"Fine, but I got you good and you know it. So what'd Perv 1 and Perv 2 give up?"

"Aside from their desire to bang you—crap."

"Ew—they literally gave you their crap? No wonder you two smell."

"Real funny," Sam said shaking his head.

"But seriously, what friggin' creeps. I wanted to deck them for mentally undressing you," Dean hissed.

"Says the guy who does the same thing to other women," Elle scoffed.

"That's different."

"How?"

"Those girls aren't my sister."

"What's going to happen when I actually find someone?"

"You already have two someones: me and Sammy."

"Dean…"

"If you find someone—it better be after I'm good and dead."

"But that won't be any fun."

"So, back to the case," Sam started.

"Or lack thereof," Elle retorted.

"Now, I think she should get to the library to research the Mordechai guy. See if there's anything to this."

"Do we have to?" Elle whined. "Can't we just assume that since I'm alive, he doesn't exist?"

"I just want to be thorough, that's all. If there's nothing here, we'll get out of town in the morning."

"Whatever, it's not like I have much of a choice."

"That's the spirit," Dean said sarcastically.

"Bite me."

Dean chomped his teeth together as Elle rolled her eyes at him before he put the car into drive and sped off toward town. When Dean pulled up outside the library, Sam thankfully, decided to go inside by himself and Dean walked over to the police station—leaving Elle alone for a bit. When Dean was no longer in sight, Sam came back to the Impala and messed with Dean's radio station. He put a finger up to his lips—motioning her to be quiet, to which she responded with a shrug. Elle lay down in the backseat before she rolled a pair of socks on the floor into a ball and she began to toss her sock ball into the air and catch it before she took a much needed nap. When she woke-up, Elle found Dean sitting on the driver's side of the car. She groaned which made him look back at her. He stared at her for a moment like there was something he wanted to ask her—and Dean didn't shy away.

"So, what's going on with you?" Dean asked seriously.

"What's going on with you?" Elle retorted.

"Elle, I'm being serious. You're kinda a bitch after anything happens with Dad."

"Nothing happens with Dad—that's kinda the point."

"Elle, there are things you don't know—"

"I don't want to hear it, Dean. The man is a worthless piece of—"

"Don't finish that. You wouldn't be here right now if it weren't for that man."

"He knocked-up Mom, big deal."

"There's more to it and you know it."

"No, I don't."

"You know what? Just forget it. I can't even talk to you when you're like this."

"Good."

Dean balled his hands into fists and shook his head and got out of the car before he said something he'd regret. Elle knew that's what he was doing. She also knew that he had a point. She was acting childish and immature about the situation with her father—but she was just giving the man a taste of his own medicine. He deserved far worse. Elle sat up to find Dean leaning against Baby's hood with his phone in hand, probably flipping through his text messages. So, she went back to playing sock volleyball, until a knock came on the window. She looked up at him and he motioned for her to get out as Sam pressed his face against the window with a goofy grin and waved. Elle groaned and sat-up before she opened the door. Dean told her to get her ass outside. She then crawled out of the car and sneezed outside in the sun.

"Now that Sneezy has decided to grace us with her presence," Dean said. "What'd you find out?"

"Well, I couldn't find a Mordechai, but I did find a Martin Murdock who lived in that old house in the 30s. He did have children, but only two of them, both boys, and there's no evidence he ever killed anyone," Sam said.

"Nothing out of the ordinary so far," Elle said. "And you?"

"Well, those kids didn't really give us a clear description of that dead girl, but I did hit up the police station. No matching missing persons. It's like she never existed," Dean said.

"No body, no crime," Elle retorted. "So can we get the hell out of here now?"

"Sammy, she's right. We've done our digging, man, and this one's a bust all right. For all we know those horny and stoned hellhound boys made the whole thing up. That and I'd really like to not go to jail because I've killed those two idiots."

"Yeah, all right," Sam said.

"I say we find ourselves a bar and some beers and leave the legend to the locals."

"And what if we run into Perv 1 and Perv 2?" Elle asked.

"They don't really seem like the bar type. They're probably snitchin' the cheap stuff from their parents' liquor cabinet."

"And they're too stoned to know the difference," Sam chuckled.

"Exactly. That and Sammy will keep them outta sight. Now let's go enjoy ourselves before we hit the road in the morning."

"Do you ever get tired of it all?" Elle asked.

"Is this some question that you're going to bitch us out for no matter how we answer?"

"I mean our lives, they don't really change, you know?"

"Sure they do. One week it's a shifter, the next it's a demon, the next a creepy-ass scarecrow. This is about as normal as our lives get, Elle-Belle."

"What do you think, Sam?"

"I think we should get in the car and get out of here," Sam said with a wink toward Elle.

"Amen, brother," Dean said pumping his fist in the air, an action he would regret in a few moments.

Dean moved once more to the driver's seat as Sam got inside trying to hide the grin on his face. Elle, knowing what was going to happen, put her hands over her ears as Dean turned the key in the ignition. She still jumped at the loud Latino-pop-dance music that came blaring through the speakers, despite having her ears covered. It was rather comical to watch Dean try and turn the music off and instead of doing so, he accidentally hit the windshield wipers. Dean shouted several curse words as the wipers moved and he fumbled to find the volume button. He decided to simply pull the key out of the ignition before he looked to Elle, who still had her hands over her ears. But his attention quickly turned toward Sam when his laughter gave him away. When Sam had Dean's attention, he licked his finger and made a #1 sign in the air before he pointed to himself.

"That's all you got?" Dean scoffed. "Weak. That is bush league."

"Then how pathetic is it that he managed to get you?" Elle commented.

"Can we get over the teenage broody angst stuff for one night?" Dean asked. "I swear, tomorrow morning we can go back to this."

"You started it."

"Well, consider this me unstarting it."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Elle…"

"Elle, you're tired, right?" Sam turned around and asked.

"However did you guess?" Elle remarked.

"Oh, I don't know—the over-the-top sarcasm for one," Dean muttered. "Secondly…"

"Dean, let's just drop Elle off at the motel, let her do her thing and we'll do ours," Sam suggested. "That work with you?"

"Throw in a bag of chocolate and you have yourselves a deal," Elle said.

"Was that so hard?" Sam said to Dean.

"You know I can't talk to her when she gets like that," Dean commented.

"How did you two ever survive those years without me?"

"We didn't," both Elle and Dean said sarcastically simultaneously.

Elle and Dean looked to each other for a moment before they both shook their heads and chuckled. They made sure to stop at a Gas-n-Sip for Elle's chocolate before the boys dropped her off at the motel. Elle was rather glad to spend the evening in bed with her bag of chocolate, her sketchbook, and some crime procedural on T.V. There were certain moments when she just needed to be left alone to recharge her own batteries in a sense. Speaking of batteries, Elle took her Gameboy out of the backpack and plugged it in to charge. She loved both her brothers dearly, but spending so much time with them without a break could be taxing. She was already feeling less bitchy and calmer about things. Well most things—but John Winchester was not one of those things. Although… she was puzzled at what Dean was trying to get at earlier… butshe didn't really have a right to ask him when she had cut him off the way she did. Her eyelids began to grown heavy and Elle soon fell asleep before Sam and Dean even got back from the bar. She awoke the next morning to Dean sitting beside her on her bed. She opened one eye before she closed it and flipped her pillow over to the cool side. Dean cleared his throat and Elle sighed and turned so that she was looking directly at her brother.

"You done being bitchy?" Dean asked.

"I prefer to think of it as crabby and you of all people know that the first day of my…" Elle started.

"Oh good god, I don't want to hear about that," Dean said bringing his hands up to his ears. "And you shoulda taken a Midol or something."

"Well it's the truth and another truth for you is that I stopped being bitchy after you two left me alone for the night."

"We left you alone in the car; why didn't that work?"

"Don't question the process. Now, it's seven o'clock in the morning. Why are we up so early?"

"Something happened over at that Hell House—came over the police scanner."

"What happened?"

"Dunno—that's why we're going there to figure it out. You up for it?"

"Just please leave me out of whatever prank you have for Sammy and we'll be all good."

"Fine, I may need to run some ideas by you; but I'll take the fall."

Elle sat-up and rubbed at her eyes before she looked over at the table where a white paper bag sat on it. She looked to Dean with a smile.

"Breakfast?" Elle asked.

"Yeah, Sammy got some bagels and the strawberry cream cheese is just for you," Dean said.

"Where is Sam?"

"He needed a shower after his run. Why anyone would want to run is idiotic."

Elle chuckled as she got up and dashed over to the table with the food. She generously smeared strawberry cream cheese over her bagel before she took a big bite, getting cream cheese on her nose. She reached her tongue up to get it off her nose, which easily worked, but then she had to wipe the saliva off her nose. Dean pulled on his boots before he said he had to run to the car for something and that she should get dressed so they could head over to the Hell House. He was barely out the door when Elle called to him.

"Dean," Elle said with her mouth full of bagel and cream cheese.

"Yes?" Dean said leaning back into the room.

"If we run into those Hellhounds guys, you have my full permission to kick their asses."

"Good—because I wasn't planning on asking for your permission; but good to know I have your blessing."

About forty-five minutes later the Winchesters found themselves back at the Hell House. Emergency vehicles surrounded the place as did quite the crowd of people. Elle, Sam, and Dean stayed back in the crowd asking questions about what happened. According to one guy, who heard it from the cops, a girl hung herself in the house. They were most likely going to rule it a suicide, but the man thought it was strange considering the girl was a straight A student with a full ride to the University of Texas. Elle knew that there were exceptions to every rule, but given the apparent lore on the place, suicide didn't sit well with her. Sam and Dean seemed to agree with her too. Dean even commented that they might have missed something before the Winchesters went back to the Impala to plan their return trip later that night.

Elle had to admit she was nervous as they planned. What if the thing really did go after her? She knew that both Sam and Dean would defend her—despite her heavy sarcasm, but would it be enough?

Back at the motel, Dean took a nap before the long night, while Sam did something on his computer, and Elle couldn't sit still or keep focused on anything. She was almost twenty-two friggin' years old and this terrified her almost as much as the first time. It shouldn't, right? It was supposed to get easier, wasn't it? She should be more like Sam and Dean who seemed completely at ease about the situation—but then again, they weren't the ones with the bounty over their heads. Elle stood up and began pacing from the bathroom door to her bed.

"Elle-Belle," Sam chuckled. "You need to calm down."

"I can't," Elle groaned. "Everything I do makes it worse. I can't draw. I can't nap. I can't even play freaking Pokémon!"

"Do you remember what you used to do when you got like this when you were younger?"

"Draw—which I already said I can't do."

"C'mere."

Sam stood up and motioned for Elle to sit in his chair in front of his computer. She sat down as he pulled his headphones out of his bag and plugged them into his laptop. He handed Elle the headphones before he pulled up some music.

"Listen to what you want. You can buy some stuff too—but don't make me go broke. And don't take the headphones off unless you want Dean to tease you," Sam said with a smile.

Elle pulled the headphones over her ears and scrolled through Sam's music to see if there was anything she wanted to listen to. She needed something calming—and she was pretty sure that she read somewhere that classical music was supposed to be rather calming. She was actually surprised how much classical music Sam did have on his computer, but when she opened it up. She found that almost all of it was under a playlist named Jessica. That made her heart hurt for a moment thinking about her brother and what he had lost. Elle double clicked on the piece called Moonlight Sonata and began to listen to it. She could definitely see Jess listening to this song—from the little she knew of the girl and Sam had probably learned to love it for her. Elle closed her eyes and let the music take her away from her nerves—to a lake scene in the pale moonlight. After listening to the song on repeat several times, she actually found herself feeling much calmer. Braver? No. Calmer? Yes.

It was dark outside when the Winchesters approached the Hell House again. Much to their dismay a police car was parked outside with two cops keeping watch. Sam and Dean crouched low in the bushes. Elle on the other hand didn't really need to duck because the bushes were about as tall as her humanly short stature. Sam mused that the cops didn't want people screwing around in the place, but Dean added that they still had to get inside. The siblings remained silent for a moment, but Elle could still hear whispering. She looked to both her brothers whose moths were both shut.

"Guys, do you hear that?" Elle whispered.

"Yeah, can you see anything?" Sam asked.

"All I see is shrubbery."

"Shorty," Dean teased as he stood up. "Damnit, I don't believe it."

"Who is it?" Elle asked.

"Perv 1 and Perv 2. And as much as I'd like to kick their asses right now—I think I have another idea."

Dean motioned for Elle to crouch down closer to Sam as he turned more toward the cops with his hands cupped over his mouth. He took a deep breath before he winked in his sister's direction.

"Who ya gonna call?" Dean shouted.

"Ghostbusters," Elle whispered with a smile on her face to which Sam gave her a strange look. "What? Perv 1 and Perv 2 didn't fit the rhythm, so I stuck with the original."

"I didn't say anything," Sam responded.

"No, but you were thinking it."

"C'mon, let's go," Dean commanded.

The Winchesters quickly scurried into the house while the cops were busy chasing the Hellhounds guys. Once inside, they had a good laugh about what they did to those idiots before the Winchesters armed themselves with rifles. Elle tightly hung onto her rifle, so that it almost became a part of her. Whatever the heck this thing was—she was going to take it down before it got her. That was the only thing she could do—although, she would do the entire thing terrified beyond belief. Dean turned the flashlight on which showed Elle's quivering shadow. Sam whispered that everything was going to be okay as Dean stopped in front of the same symbol he had been pondering the last time they were inside. Elle reached into her bag which was slung around her shoulders and pulled out her camera which she tossed to her oldest brother.

"Take a picture, it will last longer," Elle retorted.

Dean gave his sister a fake smile before he clicked a picture of the symbol on Elle's digital camera. He then slipped it back in her bag as Sam led them downstairs to the basement. Elle was hyper aware of every little movement going on around her. Every little creak in the staircase seemed to set her on edge. She wanted to get the hell out of there—but the sooner this was done, the sooner she would be out. Once they got off the stairs, Elle followed Dean over to some shelves where her older brother began picking up jars and swirling their contents. He swirled one right in Elle's face, to which she responded by swatting at his hand. This made the jar fall from his hand, but Dean easily caught it before it hit the floor. If it had been Elle, the jar would've broken. Dean patted the jar protectively before he turned toward Sam.

"Hey, Sammy, I dare you to take a swig of this," Dean chuckled.

"What the hell would I do that for?" Sam questioned.

"I double dog dare you."

"That might've worked when we were kids, but I've come a long way since then."

"Idiots," Elle muttered.

Elle turned to move away, but there was a noise coming from the cabinet. She felt her body begin to tense up. It was always the friggin' closet or cabinet in the movies. Always. Dean pointed the flashlight toward the cabinet and Sam quickly opened it. Elle tightly closed her eyes before she saw what was inside, but she could hear whatever them. Rats squeaked and ran out of the thing causing shivers to go up Elle's spine. After a deep breath, Elle opened her eyes to see Dean doing a little dance to get away from the rats.

"I hate rats," Dean groaned.

"You'd rather it was a ghost?" Sam asked.

"Yes and don't even get me started on what Elle freaks out about: spiders, ladybugs, worms…"

"Hey! Neither of us asked for my list of perfectly rational fears," Elle snapped.

"Perfectly rational?" Sam chuckled.

"You should talk, clown boy."

"Hey now, a lot of people don't like clowns."

Elle stood there facing Sam and Dean when a shadow began to approach from behind the boys. Their backs were to whatever it was and whatever it was, was wielding an axe.

"G-guys," Elle stammered.

"What?" Sam and Dean questioned.

"Move."

Sam and Dean turned around and say Mordechai. Elle shouted for them to move again before pointed her rifle at Mordechai and took a shot. Nothing happened. She shot again. Again, nothing happened. The third time she shot, the thing disappeared, but she wasn't sure it was because she shot it or because it poofed itself away. Either way, she knew it wasn't going to be gone for long. Sam was the first to voice what they all had been thinking: what kind of spirit is immune to rock salt? Neither Dean nor Elle had an appropriate response. Instead, the siblings moved to run toward the stairs as Mordechai reappeared. Elle's eyes widened as Mordechai brought his axe down on the shelves they had been standing near. Everything came crashing down. Dean pushed Elle out of the way to keep things from falling on her, taking most of the brunt on himself. Elle went flying into the staircase and came down hard, causing her to lose her breath and her rifle to go flying. As Elle, lay there trying to breathe again, Sam began physically fighting Mordecai. Sam hollered for them to get out as he gave Mordecai a firm shove. Dean reached down and picked Elle up to help her to her feet, but she leaned heavily against him. Elle and Dean had climbed a few stairs and Sam was running toward them when Mordechai smashed the electrical box and sparks began to fly everywhere.

Dean kept a tight grip around Elle as they moved up the stairs. When they finally reached the first floor of the house, they sprinted toward the front door—eager to get out of the house. Sam with his long stride passed them and opened the door for them. Elle and Dean went out the door first, literally running straight into Perv 1 and Perv 2 and all their idiotic equipment. Elle wasn't sure which perv she went crashing into, but once again, she felt her body go flying through the air and land on the hard gravel ground, while both Sam and Dean took a tumble down the porch steps. Elle forced herself to stand—realizing that she had lost her weapon in the process, something a hunter never lets happen. As she struggled to get to her feet, a hand reached down to help her, which she accepted only to find a camera shoved in her face by the person the hand belonged to.

"Hola, little lady," the guy said, but Dean intervene.

"Get that damn thing outta our faces," Dean hissed. "Or I will kick your…"

"Dean, go! Go! Go!" Sam hissed as he began to run, yanking Elle by the arm.

Elle turned around to see Mordechai lurking from inside the house. The Winchesters left Perv 1 and Perv 2—probably to die and they ran as fast as they could back to the Impala. All three of them practically collapsed inside the car, simply trying to catch their breaths. The ride back to the motel was rather silent. No one wanted to be the first one to open the huge can of worms that was Mordechai—not to mention that they were all lost in thought about the thing. It didn't make sense. Then again, most of what they hunted didn't really make sense. When they got back to the motel room, Elle went straight to the bathroom. She lifted up her shirt to reveal her entire right side was beginning to bruise and her wound on her neck had reopened, but it looked like the bleeding had stopped. She exhaled slowly. She wasn't made for this life. Sure, she could have a smartass attitude, and there were times when she could kick ass just as good as Sam or Dean—but she wasn't consistent. Tears began to sting at her eyes. She wasn't made for this. But there wasn't really anything she could do about it. It seemed that once someone was sucked into this world it was either kill or be killed—and Elle certainly didn't like the latter option. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Life would be so much easier if it were cut and dry.

Elle took a long and hot shower to soothe her injuries and to get her emotions in check. By the time she stepped out of the shower and padded across the tile floor with her hair dripping wet, the mirror was completely fogged-up. There was a drawing on the mirror of three stick figures labeled Sam, Dean, and Elle and then two stick figures with their heads near their bodies labeled Perv 1 and Perv 2. Elle couldn't help but laugh—but she was slightly concerned that she hadn't heard Dean slip into the bathroom while she was in the shower. He must've gone into stealth mode. Elle wrapped her long hair up in a towel before she pulled on an old baggy t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. She then walked into the room to find Dean with her camera and the pad of paper that came complimentary with the room while Sam was on his computer doing something or another. Elle moved and sat on Dean's bed with him which caused him to look up at her.

"You sure know a way to a girl's heart," Elle commented.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dean said gruffly.

"The picture on the mirror—thanks for that."

"Oh, that? It was nothing. It could have used a bit more shading."

"I think it was perfect."

"Yeah, well, I needed something to distract me from this friggin' symbol. It's buggin' the hell outta me. You know what, this whole damn job is bugging the hell outta me. I thought the legend said Mordechai only goes after chicks."

"It does," Sam responded from his computer.

"All right. Well, I mean that explains why it went after you, but why me? And why didn't the thing go straight for Elle?"

"Hey, Constance went after me and I wasn't unfaithful or a man. So, welcome to the club," Elle added.

"I don't like this club."

"Well, the legend says he hung himself, but did you see those slits on his wrists?" Sam questioned.

"I didn't get the chance. I was kinda busy trying to keep you two from getting chopped to death. In case you didn't notice, he had an axe!" Elle groaned.

"That's the other issue I'm having. The axe. I mean, ghosts are usually pretty strict, right? Following the same patterns over and over?" Sam questioned.

"But for some reason, this mook keeps changing," Dean commented. "Something's not right."

"Exactly what I'm saying! I mean the story goes…hold on, wait a minute," Sam said as he leaned in closer to his computer with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Why?" Elle questioned as she stood up and walked over.

"Read this."

Sam pointed to another posting on the Hellhoundslair website, which made her roll her eyes at first, but she began to read in her head.

"Aloud for us without the high school diplomas," Dean commented.

"You have a GED," Elle said.

"Yeah, but there was no reading involved."

"Whatever—I recall you studying for hours, reading books."

"It's called acting."

"Fine. They say Mordechai Murdock was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an axe before slitting his own wrists. Now he's imprisoned in the house for all eternity. Sounds much friendlier. What next he was the leader of some sort of cult with sacrificial killings?"

"Cult," Dean mused.

"Where the hell is this going?" Sam questioned.

"Elle you're a genius! I think I just figured out where this all started," Dean said leaping to his feet.

"What'd I do?" Elle whispered to Sam.

"No, idea," Sam whispered back.

"He complimented me. That's never a good sign."

"Just go with it."

"That's the part that scares me."

The first thing the next morning, Dean drove his siblings back to the music store. Elle still wasn't sure why they were here, but Dean seemed very confident that coming back here was the necessary thing to do. The bell rang to announce their entrance and a rather depressed-looking Craig took a small glance toward them before he looked back into space. Dean asked the kid if he remembered them, but Craig got rather defensive and said that he wasn't in the mood to answer any questions. Something was definitely eating at the kid. Sam and Elle looked to Dean who motioned for them to follow him to look through the CD's.

"You really think now's the best time to be looking for new jams?" Elle whispered.

"Yes, I do little sister. Remember that symbol in the house that I couldn't figure out for the life of me? I realized it doesn't mean anything. It's the logo for the Blue Oyster Cult—thanks for helping me put that together, by the way," Dean said.

Elle was confused as to how she had been of assistance, but she let him go with it. But then things got good. Dean cornered Craig—accusing him of being the one to putting the symbols in the house to scare the crap out of people. Now, that was all fine and everything, but how did it tie into what they were fighting? But then Craig spilled his guts—giving a few more pieces to this messed-up puzzle.

"All right, all right! My cousin, Dana, was on break from TCU and uh—I guess we were just bored and looking for something to do. So I showed her this old abandoned dump I found. We thought it would be funny if we made it look like it was haunted. So for shits and giggles we painted symbols on the walls, some from album covers, some from Dana's theology textbooks. Then we found out that some guy named Murdock used to live there so we...we made up some story to go along with it. So we told people, who told other people and the whole thing snowballed when these two guys put it on their website. Everything just took on a life of its own. I mean, I thought it was funny at first, but…now that girl's dead! It was just a joke, you know? I mean none of it was real! We made the whole thing up—honest to God."

"All right, thanks for your time," Sam said after a long awkward silence. "We're uh—glad you came clean before this went to print."

Once the Winchesters got outside, Dean turned around to make sure that no one was within earshot of them before he spoke.

"If none of it was real, how the hell do you explain Mordechai trying to chop us to death?" Dean asked.

"Just lucky, I guess," Elle said sarcastically.

The Winchesters found themselves at a nearby diner for a late breakfast. When Sam excused himself to use the bathroom, Dean began to talk rather quietly to Elle.

"Elle-Belle, I need your input," Dean said.

"On?" Elle asked.

"Which prank to do to Sammy. Now, option one: switch all the letters on his keyboard of his laptop, two: tape his stuff to the ceiling trick, three: itching powder in his pants, or four: bouillon cubes in the showerhead?"

"Not number one, he doesn't even look at his keys. Not number two, Sammy's tall enough where he'd probably hit his head on all his crap—which might be entertaining on second thought. Number three, definitely do-able and somewhat original for you. Number four; I did to you when Sam was at Stanford—so you'd just be admitting how awesome my prank was."

"Number three it is. When we get back to the motel, you keep him distracted."

"I told you I didn't want to be a part of this."

"Distract him or I'll tell him it was all your idea."

"Fine."

Just as she had promised Dean, she kept Sam distracted. They had even managed to make a break in the case—after they called Bobby of course. Elle had been the one to suggest that they see what Bobby thought. She dialed his number and waited for him to pick up before she put it on speakerphone.

"Hello," Bobby answered.

"Hey, Bobby, it's Elle and Sam," Elle said.

"Ellie, Sam, good to hear from you two. Where's Dean?"

"Uh—you know, the usual. But anyway, why we called—we could really use your help figuring out what we're dealing with."

"I can try."

"All right, so, Bobby, we thought there was some paranormal stuff going on here, but it turned out that this kid made the whole story up. But we were there last night and there really was some sort of spirit trying to axe us to death," Sam said finally entering the conversation.

"Is that all?"

"His legend keeps changing. We were told that he hung his daughter and hung himself."

"Then next thing we know he's an axe wielding murder who offed himself by slitting his wrists," Elle added. "It doesn't make sense."

"How can this thing keep changing the rules?"

"From what I've heard, it sounds to me like you have a Tulpa," Bobby reasoned. "It's a Tibetan thought form. In theory, if one meditates on it hard enough, it will materialize."

"How do we get rid of it?" Sam asked.

"Like I said, most of this is theory work, guys. I haven't exactly gone head to head with one before, but let me call around and see what I can find out."

"Thanks, Bobby," Elle said.

"Yeah, thanks," Sam added.

"Don't thank me yet," was all Bobby responded.

"We'll do some more looking on our end too."

"Hopefully we hear back from you soon," Elle said.

"Bye, Ellie. Bye, Sam."

With a click Bobby was gone. Sam told Elle that he wanted to take a shower really quick and that she do some research on Tulpas online. Sam went into the bathroom and Elle listened for the water to turn on before she plopped onto her bed. She was glad that they had called Bobby and not John. She just hoped that Bobby came through for them. Elle lay on her bed staring at the ceiling for about five minutes when Dean came walking through the door. He smirked as he pulled the itching powder out of his jacket pocket.

"Sam, I'm back!" Dean called.

"Hey, where were you? Elle was kinda vague," Sam shouted from the bathroom.

"I went out."

Dean picked up Sam's underwear from the bed and began to shake the contents of the packet onto them.

"Which is exactly what I'm going to do," Elle added. "Remember, I played absolutely no part in this."

Elle stood up and walked over to her brother. She motioned for him to give her some money, so he reluctantly pulled the spare change out of his pocket and set it in Elle's hand. As she walked out of the room, she counted that she had $3.72 to buy something from the vending machines. When she got to the vending machine, she bought herself a Cherry Coke and a bag of sour gummy worms and still had some change left over, which she wasn't going to give back to Dean. Not giving money back to Dean was probably how she made most of her own funds. Granted, her funds weren't extensive, but couple dollar here and there added-up after a while. By the time she got back to the motel room, Sam was dressed, in his itching powder-laced underwear, which she assumed were under his jeans. Dean said that they were planning on getting some lunch. With a sigh, Elle put her soda and gummy worms on the table and followed her brothers back to the car. They found a fast-food place to eat at. Elle ordered a chicken sandwich and fries, Dean ordered a burger and fries, and Sam got a salad with grilled chicken. The server handed them their food before they walked over to an empty table outside. As they walked, Sam walked rather funny. Elle looked to Dean who was grinning from ear to ear.

"Dude, what's your problem?" Dean questioned.

"Nothing, I'm fine," Sam groaned.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Dean set their tray down at their table before they began to eat.

"So what about these Tulpas?" Dean asked with a bite of burger in his mouth.

"We're waiting to see if Bobby gets anything," Sam asked.

"Speak of the devil," Elle said as she held up her phone which was ringing. She answered it. "Hi, Bobby, you're on speakerphone this time and you're in for a treat—Dean's here."

"Hey, Bobby," Dean said.

"Hi, Dean—now, kids, I've been doing some digging on Tulpas," Bobby said.

"What'd you find out?" Sam asked.

"Well, it looks like there was an incident in Tibet in 1915. A group of monks visualized a golem in their heads and they meditated on it so hard that they brought the damn thing to life. Right outta thin air."

"Damn," Dean said. "But what does this have to do with us?"

"That was only 20 monks."

"And right now we're dealing with 10,000 web surfers. I mean, Craig started the story about Mordechai and then it spreads—goes viral. So, now there are countless people believing in the bastard."

"Now wait a second—are you trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai, he's real?" Dean asked.

"Stranger things have happened," Bobby said.

"Well what about Santa Claus? How come I'm not getting hooked up every Christmas?"

"Because I'm nicer than you are and every year I ask Santa not to get you anything," Elle retorted.

"I'm not joining this debate, but there's usually some sort of sigil involved with Tulpas," Bobby said.

"And Craig did say they were painting symbols from a theology textbook," Sam mused. "They could've used that sigil."

"Now, that sigil has been used for centuries—concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So all those people on that website you mentioned—staring at that symbol…"

"And thinking about Mordechai," Elle added. "I think it definitely could work."

"And that would explain why he keeps changing," Dean said.

"Which means as the legend changes, people think different things, so Mordechai himself changes," Sam groaned as he began itching at his pants. "Like a game of telephone. That would also explain why the rock salt didn't work."

"So why don't we just go get this sigil thingy off the wall and off the website?"

"It's not that simple," Bobby said—the Winchesters had forgotten about him for a moment. "According to legend, once Tulpas are created they take on a life of their own."

"That's just friggin' great—so how the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?" Dean asked.

"You censor it," Elle suggested.

"That won't be easy, especially with the amount of hits they get," Sam responded.

"But if I think I get what you're saying, I got an idea. So we gotta get outta here," Dean said.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked.

"It involves a copy store."

"We're not robbing it, are we?" Elle questioned.

"What'd you think?"

"Well, if you kids need anything else just give me a call; but I have a call on the other line," Bobby said.

The Winchesters said their goodbyes to Bobby before Elle hung up the phone. Sam stood up and began to shake out his legs, bouncing around, and itching his crotch area. He mentioned something about being allergic to the soap which made Dean laugh as he walked away. That was all Sam needed to hear to come to the realization that it was Dean behind his discomfort. He then gave Dean a shove once they were outside to which Dean could only smile. After fifteen minutes of driving, they finally found a copy store. Dean said that he would go inside by himself so that people wouldn't get suspicious…which neither younger sibling completely bought into. So, Sam and Elle waited in the car.

"So, I have two ideas for payback," Sam said turning toward Elle.

"Oh?" Elle commented.

"Either the hand in the warm water trick or superglue on his beer bottle trick."

"What is with boys and peeing? It's not funny, it's disgusting."

"It's a little funny."

Elle looked at him flatly.

"But not as funny as superglue, apparently."

"I'm going to tell you the same thing I told, Dean. Keep me out of it."

"You can play that innocent game all you want, but we both know better that to believe that."

"Believe what you want."

Twenty minutes later, Dean came back to the car carrying a fake death certificate for Mordechai Murdock. Elle was not happy about part two of Dean's plan. She was sorta fine with confronting Perv 1 and Perv 2, but the fact that she had to act like she was attracted to them—not so much. Elle had to wait behind another trailer while Sam and Dean went up to the pervs and riled them up a bit. Then she would come in and basically seduce them—although in a sense she was supposed to fail. As she waited for her turn, she heard Dean insult them several times until he gave her the code for her cue. She then moved from her hiding spot and out into the open. Perv 1 and Perv 2 were shocked to see her. But Elle walked over and slapped each of her brothers in the arm.

"Sam, Dean, what the hell do you two think you're doing to these two of god's gifts to mankind," Elle had to say without barfing in her mouth.

"These two? Really?" Dean questioned.

"Guys, I've told you that these handsome gentlemen are the professionals we should be taking this information to," Elle argued for the sake of being in front of Perv 1 and Perv 2.  
"Did you hear that? She thinks we're handsome," Harry whispered to Ed. "And gentlemen."

"Me obviously more than you, but this gentlelady appreciates the delicate art form that is paranormal investigating," Ed said brushing his hand down Elle's cheek.

"Now, now," Elle said faking a smile. "I don't want any form of uh—payment for the information. Just wanted to do the right thing."

"You can be naughty too, right?" Ed whispered.

"You will just have to wait and see," Elle said coyly.

"So—what information is it that you want to give us—but those two don't?" Harry questioned.

"Elle, it's a secret," Sam hissed.

"Sam, Dean—I'd like a moment alone with them, please," Elle said.

"No—you're going to give them our secret." Dean argued. "A secret that should never get out,"

"The lady said to go," Ed said. "So I suggest you run along to Granny's now."

Elle cringed at the thought of being alone with Perv 1 and Perv 2, but everything was seemingly going to plan. She looked at Dean who gave her a slight nod to continue. If one hadn't been looking for the nod, one would have missed it. Sam and Dean walked away, leaving Elle with the Ed and Harry. Elle shyly tucked her hair behind her ear.

"What is it you wanted with us?" Harry asked.

"My brothers were right. I think this information is best left in your capable hands. They're going to hate me for this, but I can't keep quiet. The truth deserves to come to light. I only ask one teeny, tiny favor in return," Elle said huskily as she brought a hand to each of their faces.

"Anything," Harry and Ed breathed simultaneously.

"Before I ask it—you should know that this wasn't easy to dig up."

"Name it and it's yours, sweet thang," Ed said.

"It's a small thing really, but I would like your word that you will use this information for the good of others. Protecting others, just like Buffy would do."

"Just. Like. Buffy." Harry gasped. "It's like she knows our very souls."

"Our spirits are one," Ed continued as he pressed his hands on her cheeks.

"So you'll do it?" Elle questioned with her cheeks somewhat squished..

"Most definitely."

Elle looked over her shoulder to make it look like she was checking for Sam and Dean before she lifted up the front of her shirt—revealing her stomach for a minute as she pulled out a manila folder. She was pretty sure that this action made Perv 2 crap his pants. She awkwardly pulled her shirt back down as Perv 1 licked his lips while admiring her. Keep acting—she had to tell herself; but once the plan worked she was going to find some way to get her revenge against them. Someway. Somehow. Elle faked a smile before she tucked her hair behind her ear and handed the folder over to Perv 2.

"You'll find inside a death certificate from the 30s. My brothers and I got it at the library after hours of digging. Well, technically—I found it, but my brothers like to take credit for my work a lot which is incredibly annoying. Anyway, according to the coroner, the actual cause of death was a self-inflicted gunshot wound," Elle explained.

"He shot himself?" Ed questioned.

"What about hanging himself or cutting himself?" Harry questioned.

"I guess it's kinda like that kid game of telephone—stuff gets messed up. Anyway, the paperwork says that he shot himself with a .45 pistol and actual legend says that he's still terrified of them to this day. That if you shoot him with a .45, loaded with special wrought-iron rounds—it will kill the buttmunch."

Ed and Harry sniggered.

"Please don't tell my brothers," Elle said close to almost faking tears. "If they ask what I was doing…"

"We were making out," Ed commented.

"You made out with both of us," Harry added.

Again, Elle wanted to barf, but she brushed it off.

"Just as long as your stories are consistent," Elle barely choked out.

Ed walked over to his neighbor's trailer and picked a red rose off a plant. He then walked over and handed it to Elle with a slight bow. Elle faked a giggle and a blush—by just telling herself that she was blushing before she took back the folder, without the fake death certificate and headed back to the car. Elle shuddered as she made her walk of shame back to her brothers. She made a mental note to burn the clothes she was currently wearing…even though she had on her favorite pair of socks; they were now tainted. Never again would she do this for Dean. Next time it was going to be his turn to do the sweet-talking. When she finally got back to the car, Elle found Sam and Dean leaning against the Impala waiting for her. Dean smirked at her as she approached which made her groan.

"I hate you," Elle muttered. "And Sam, you're not far behind, mister."

"What's that?" Dean asked ignoring her complaining and pointing to the object in her hand.

"It's for you. With love from Perv 1."

Elle handed Dean the flower which Ed had stolen from the neighbor for her. With a look of disgust on his face, Dean dropped the red rose into the dust.

"Sorry, Sam," Elle apologized. "Perv 2 didn't leave you anything. But if it makes you feel better, I think he's just shy."

Neither of her brothers said anything. Instead, they just piled into the Impala and went back to the motel until it was dinner time. They found another local café next door to their motel. They sat in a booth. Elle purposely sat beside Dean because she knew what Sam was planning on doing and that she couldn't look at him right without giving his prank away. Annoyingly, Dean kept yanking the chain of a fisherman that hung on the wall. If Dean himself wasn't annoying enough, the fisherman added to it. Its mouth moved up and down as it laughed irritatingly. If that wasn't bad enough the old folks in the place were giving them angry looks. Dean pulled the cord again before Sam reached up and stopped it.

"If you pull that string one more time, I'm gonna kill you," Sam groaned.

"And I'll help him bury your body," Elle added.

"Oh, come on," Dean chuckled. "You both could use a little more laughter in your lives. You're way too tense."

"I do laugh…at you."

"Only when you're inflicting pain upon me."

"You never specified."

"Sometimes I wonder how you turned out the way you did."

"You," Elle said with a fake sweet smile.

Dean looked to her and shook his head before he turned back to Sam who was on his laptop.

"They post it yet?" Dean asked.

Dean then pulled the fisherman's chain which made Sam stab his salad angrily. So Dean flipped the laptop around and began to read aloud.

"Blah, blah, blah—we've learned from a reputable, attractive, hot (10/10), and naughty (if you catch our drift) source that Mordechai Murdock has a fatal fear of firearms."

"I think I just puked in my mouth," Elle grimaced.

"Me too. Definitely kicking their asses next time we see them. So how long you think we wait?"

"Long enough for the new story to spread and the legend to change. I figure by midnight iron rounds will work on the sucker," Sam said.

"Hell, yes!" Elle said. "The sooner Mordechai is ganked, the sooner there are miles upon miles between us and Perv 1 and Perv 2."

"I'll toast to that," Sam said putting his beer in the air.

Elle gave Sam a knowing look before she raised her glass of water in the air. She was somewhat avoiding alcohol since the whole llama bitch episode. Dean joined right in with them and raised his bottle and tapped it to his siblings drinks. Dean then took a long drink of his beer. Sam began to grin while Elle had to turn her face to hide her smile. The oldest Winchester moved to set his bottle down on the table, but it stuck to his hand. Sam started to laugh and Elle began to silently shake with laughter as she looked over her shoulder.

"You didn't," Dean grumbled.

"Oh, I did!" Sam said holding up the superglue.

Dean shook his hand to try and get the bottle to fall off, but it didn't budge. Sam continued to laugh before he pulled the string to fisherman on the wall. Elle looked up at the fisherman. She had an idea. She asked Dean for his wallet. He looked at her with the bottle still stuck to his hand. She said that she would grab it herself from his back pocket if he didn't give it to her. So, he reluctantly handed her his wallet before she walked up to the counter. She managed to bargain with the manager to get the fisherman piece for $100. Well, technically she didn't bargain. She just offered the guy the first bill she pulled out of Dean's wallet and he accepted her offer. By the time Elle got back to the other table, Dean had a butter knife in his hand and was trying to pry the bottle off. Having watched Dean pull this prank before, Elle knew the trick to removing it. She dug in her bag and pulled out the bottle of nail polish remover and handed it to Dean. But Dean refused accept her girly nail polish remover and instead pried it off with the knife—ripping the skin in the process. Elle shuddered at the sight of his hand before Dean muttered that they were going. She told Sam to grab the fisherman off the wall, for which he gave her a confused look—but he did as he was told. He handed it to Elle, who walked out of the diner carrying the creepy fisherman.

Elle yanked the chain of the fisherman from the backseat several times, which annoyed Dean as he drove with raw hands. Elle's idea was to hide the thing in the woods to distract the cops so that they could sneak back into the house. Well, that—or maybe the Tulpa would find it as annoying as they did. But the first option was much more solid. Sam and Elle set the decoy up in the woods, while Dean stayed in the car picking at the skin on his hands. By the time, Sam and Elle got back—minus one annoying fisherman, Dean had three guns loaded and set on the trunk of the car for them to grab. He gave the orders for them to follow. Once again, the pit of her stomach, Elle felt nervous. Couldn't she ever go into a situation and not be nervous? Why couldn't she be as confident on the inside as she appeared on the outside?

She exhaled slowly before she followed Dean back into the house. She began to hum Moonlight Sonata to calm herself or in hopes that Mordechai was a classical fan. Dean asked if Mordechai was even home and Sam responded that he wasn't sure when another voice came from behind them. All three Winchesters turned around quickly, ready to pull the triggers on their guns…only to reveal that Perv 1 and Perv 2 had decided to make an appearance. Perv 1 and Perv 2 shouted for the Winchesters to lower their weapons and Sam asked them what they were doing there. Perv 1 claimed that they were there trying to get a book and movie deal before he added that having an attractive woman on film would only help their chances. Elle rolled her eyes as the camera focused on her before she flipped it the bird. Dean stepped forward to make good on his promise to kick their asses when sounds of knives being sharpened in the basement began to echo through the house. Elle immediately raised her gun again and turned toward the door to the basement. She was prepared for when that buttmuch did come bursting through the door holding his axe above his head and screaming. All three Winchesters emptied their gun chambers on the sucker before Mordechai disappeared into a mist. Elle practically collapsed against a wall breathing heavily as Sam and Dean ran through the other rooms to make sure that they were clear.

"He's gone. He's gone," Ed said.

"You get him?" Harry questioned.

"Yeah, they got him," Ed said before he turned to Elle. "And woman you are an effing badass. That was hot."

"I wish Mordecai would've taken your libido before he disappeared," Elle muttered.

"Ed—I meant on camera," Harry interrupted as Ed walked toward Elle.

"I—uh—I," Ed stammered.

"Let me see it," Harry groaned. "Let me see it."

As Harry looked at the camera, Elle noticed movement in the corner of her eye. At first she assumed that it was Sam or Dean, but it wasn't.

"Perv, look out!" Elle shouted as she reached for extra rounds in her bag.

Harry's eyes widened as he saw the axe come down before his very eyes. It smashed the camera and forced Harry to the ground. Then old Mordechai disappeared. Dean came running back inside as Elle loaded her gun again.

"Elle, what happened?" Dean questioned.

"Mordechai's being a little bitch," Elle breathed.

"I thought you two posted that B.S. story that Elle fed you," Dean said turning toward Perv 1 and Perv 2.

Sam appeared in the doorway with his gun at the ready.

"I saw it," Dean continued. "What the hell happened."

"Our—our server crashed," Harry stuttered.

"So it was all for nothing?" Elle groaned.

"And now, these guns won't work," Dean grunted before he tossed his gun to the floor. "Sam, Elle, got any ideas?"

"Well, we're getting out of here," Harry said. "C'mon, Ed."

Elle shouted you're welcome as Perv 1 and Perv 2 ran past Dean and into the other room. But they responded by screaming—because Mordechai appeared again. Perv 1 began shouting "The power of Christ compels you," which made Elle roll her eyes. They were real professionals all right—didn't even know that it was a spirit they were up against. Besides, all a demon would do is to flinch at the name of Christ. Sam was the one who went to the boys rescue and Elle followed behind him as back-up. Sam yelled for Mordechai to go after him—and he did. Mordechai grabbed Sam by the throat and pushed him up against the wall—choking him, causing Perv 1 and Perv 2 to bolt from the scene. Elle began firing the spare rounds at the cretin because she didn't have a better idea. At least she could hopefully get the thing off Sam for a bit—but this only pissed Mordechai off more. He momentarily let go of Sam and yanked Elle closer to him. She screamed as he had her by the neck right on her injury. She could feel herself slowly losing her breath as he pushed her up the wall, causing her feet to no longer touch the floor. Sam grabbed Elle's gun and fired what was left of the rounds before he started to smack Mordechai with the butt of the gun—but Mordechai paid him no mind. Elle narrowed her eyes at him as she spoke with some of what felt like her last breaths.

"Go ahead, do it, Mordie-poo," Elle hissed at Mordechai. "Because I will come back and haunt your ass. You'll be my little bitch."

Dean came running into the room with some kerosene that he was splashing all over the place. He held up a spray bottle and lit the gas, causing a plume of fire to appear. Mordechai dropped Elle to the floor. Sam reached through Mordechai's legs and pulled his sister into his arms before he dragged her toward Dean who told them to run. Elle coughed as Sam, who was still breathing hard from when Mordechai had him, pulled his little sister into his arms. They waited in the next room for Dean who was only moments behind them.

"Mordechai can't leave the house and we can't kill him. So, we improvise," Dean said as he held up a lighter.

"Let me," Elle said hoarsely as she snatched the lighter from Dean. "I told you, you'd be my little bitch."

Elle tossed the lighter into the back room before ran as fast as she could toward the door with her brothers. Once they were safe outside, they watched the place go up in flames, with Mordechai standing in the doorway—unable to get outside. Elle leaned up against Sam, who took off his jacket and wrapped it around his little sister.

"So that was your solution?" Sam said to Dean. "Burn the whole damn thing to the ground?"

"Well, nobody can go in anymore," Dean said with a shrug. "I mean, look, Mordechai can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt. It's fast, it's dirty, but it works."

"Well, what if the legend changes again and Mordchai is allowed to leave the house?"

"Well, then we'll just have to come back."

"Is it wrong to be slightly pissed off that the pervs weren't inside with him?" Elle asked.

"Morbid? Yes. Wrong? Gray area," Dean chuckled and Sam joined him.

There was a moment of silence before Sam spoke up again.

"Kinda makes you wonder though—of all the things we've hunted, how many existed just because people believed in them," Sam added.

"I can answer that," Elle said. "Too damn many."

"Amen, sister. Amen," Dean sniggered.

The next day, Sam, Dean, and Elle found themselves at the trailer park outside Perv 1 and Perv 2's home. They were loading their car. Elle allowed her brothers to have their moment with them first because she had something up her sleeve. So, she sat on the neighbor's picnic table. Ed and Harry were just about to get in their car to leave when Elle bolted up off the table and started to run toward them.

"Ed! Harry! Wait!" Elle called after them. "I—uh—I wanted a special goodbye. Alone."

"You heard the lady," Ed said.

Elle waved them gone. To which Sam and Dean looked at each other in confusion, but they walked back to the Impala.

"It's been…" Elle started. "Words can't even describe."

"Totally," Ed sighed.

Elle motioned the boys forward with her finger before she whispered something in their ears. Both of their faces got rather red before they handed Elle their cellphones. After she handed their phones back, Perv 1 aka Ed hugged Elle tightly. She allowed him to hold her for like 3 seconds before she went in for it. Elle kneed Perv 1 in the balls before giggled a fake apology. She then went over to Perv 2 aka Harry and hugged him before she purposely lifted her head too fast causing her head to go crashing into his nose. His nose started to bleed as Elle giggled another apology. Ed and Harry got in the car as they waved and blew her kissed. Elle pretended to catch a kiss and pocket it before she turned around and made a gagging motion. Elle walked back to her brothers just as they were calling a truce. They got in the car before Elle leaned forward against the front seat.

"For the sake of honesty, I lied about not being in on the prank war," Elle said.

"You haven't even done anything," Sam scoffed.

"Just wait for it."

"So what was with your special goodbye," Dean questioned.

"The boys wanted my phone number," Elle said with a shrug.

"And you gave it to them?" Sam laughed.

"No. I gave them yours," Elle said looking at Sam. "And yours. I told them that I'm always up for a good time and that pictures are even better."

"You didn't," Dean muttered.

Sam's phone rang followed by Dean's phone. Sam looked hesitant but he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket.

"Oh god, she did!" Sam groaned.

Dean was now looking at his phone but he quickly dropped it.

"That doesn't even look right! My eyes! I can't ever unsee that!" Dean cringed.

Both their phones chimed again.

"Make it stop!" Dean groaned.

"Oh that's disgusting," Sam gagged.

"Elle!" Sam and Dean said simultaneously.

"You both should know better than to mess with me," Elle grinned. "Bam!"

Elle pulled the chain of the fisherman which had made its way into the backseat with her. She had killed four birds with one stone. She had gotten Perv 1 and Perv 2's hopes up and she had totally topped Sam and Dean. Elle pulled the fisherman's chain again before Dean turned around and snatched the thing out of her hands. He threw it out the window and tossed it to the ground while it still laughed. Dean quickly put the car in drive before he backed-up and over the fisherman and then sped away. Elle smirked as their phones chimed yet again. Totally worth it.


	19. Something Wicked This Way Comes

Elle Winchester tossed and turned in her bed. Her night's sleep had been near restless because her mind wouldn't shut down. Not to mention that she was somewhat paranoid that a certain visitor might overtake her dreams again. She still hadn't figured out if it was her subconscious she was talking with or something she was talking with. She wasn't sure that either was a good thing—so she refused to allow Sam and Dean in on the secret. She already had enough going against her in this life that she didn't need them thinking she was crazy on top of it. Elle flipped her pillow over to the cool side when she heard the TV being turned on. The sound of Groundhog Day coming from the TV started her for a moment before she looked to see Dean sitting up in bed, leaning against the headboard and Sam wasn't in the room—meaning he was probably out being productive and getting some sort of exercise. Dean laughed at one of the stupid jokes in the movie which made Elle groan and roll onto her back.

"Which of the dwarves are you this morning? Grumpy? Dopey?" Dean questioned.

"Sleepy," Elle yawned. "And like you remember their names."

"I try to forget your Disney stage."

"I never really watched Snow White, her voice annoyed me. I suppose the only logical explanation is that you watched it without me."

"Shut your mouth, I'm trying to watch TV."

Elle rolled her eyes and propped herself up by her elbows so that she could see the TV. Her head turned quizzically when she heard her cell phone vibrating against the nightstand before her ringtone began to sound. She had secretly recorded Dean singing Highway to Hell very off-key and that was her ringtone. Dean looked at his sister with an annoyed expression as she reached for her phone. She picked it up and saw who was calling her: John Winchester. She set the phone back on the table without even answering it—so Dean kept on singing. Dean looked at his sister before he reached over and grabbed her phone for himself. He looked at who was calling and his annoyance was once again evident in his face.

"Elle," Dean hissed before he pressed the answer button and pressed it up to his cheek. "Hey, Dad. Yeah—she's—uh—sleeping. Where are—yeah, I can get her up. How are—Elle, it's for you."

"I figured as much since it's my phone," Elle retorted. "But I don't want to talk to him. Obviously."

"It's Dad. It's got to be important."

"Then he can tell you because like you said, I'm sleeping."

"I'll give you a swirly."

"No you wouldn't."

"Wanna bet? You weigh like nothing."

With a sneer on her face she stomped over to Dean's bed and snatched the phone from his hands. She walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind her so that Dean couldn't follow her. She set the lid to the toilet down and sat. This way, Dean couldn't give her a stupid swirly. He had done so once when she was in seventh grade. Right before they were supposed to leave for school and he wouldn't let her shower or dry off before they left. She had smelled like toilet all day which was beyond embarrassing. Elle brought the phone up to her ear but didn't say anything. Instead, she just listened for a few minutes—hoping that John would just hang up on her, but he didn't. Finally, her annoyance won-over her stubbornness.

"What?" Elle grunted.

"Hello, to you too, Campbell," John said rather gruffly.

"Now that we've got that out of the way, what do you want?"

"Can't a father call his daughter?"

"You know, normally, I'd say yes; but this is you we're talking about. You've never given a damn before so I'm not going to expect you to start caring now. So tell me, what is it that you want or I'm going to hang-up and you know that I'll do it."

"Fitchburg."

"What about Fitchburg."

"Tell your brothers that there's something the three of you should be looking into in Fitchburg, Wisconsin."

"Hell to the no. I am not spending by birthday in Wisconsin."

"I didn't ask you. I'm telling you that where the three of you need to go."

"And what if I don't tell them?"

"Elle, please, there's something there that we should've dealt with awhile back. It's important. Innocent lives are at stake."

Damnit. He knew how to get her to commit. Bring in those innocent people and she couldn't ignore the request.

"Campbell?"

"Fine—but only for the innocent people. Not because you asked, just so we're clear."

"Glad common sense reasoned with you. I—uh—I also just want to uh—wish you…"

Elle hung up the phone. That was all the John Winchester she could stomach for the day, especially this early in the morning. She walked back out into the room to see Dean's eager eyes watching her for information. Instead, she slammed her phone back onto the bedside table before she fell backwards onto her bed and buried herself under the covers. The man could be so damn irritating…but she supposed that was where she got it from. She angrily flipped her father the bird underneath the covers even though she knew he couldn't see her, but it was the angry thought that counted, right? Dean flung back the covers, exposing her to the sunlight once more.

"What'd Dad want?" Dean questioned.

"What does John Winchester ever want from us?" Elle retorted right back.

"Now's not the time to get lippy. Tell me what he wanted."

"He has a job for us, whoop-de-frickin-doo!"

"Where?"

"Hell."

"Elle."

"Wisconsin is pretty close to hell in my book and before you ask—a place called Fitchburg."

"Did he say what's there?"

"He was cryptic as usual. Something about it being something that we should've dealt with already, whatever the hell that means."

"Anything else?"

"Not that I can remember, but then again, I usually choose not to remember conversations with that man. Life's easier that way."

"Can you give Dad a break? He's trying his best."

"Well his best doesn't make up for years of treating people like shit. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go shower before we go back to hell...where I'll most likely be on my birthday, thank you very much."

She showered far longer than was necessary, but she knew this was probably going to be the only alone time she got for a while. Being the introvert she was, this was her time to recharge. Besides, she was bound to play twenty questions about John Winchester's phone call again when Sam got back. The water slowly cascaded over Elle as her hand slowly found the wound on her neck from the Daeva. That was definitely going to scar…because it wasn't like she didn't have enough of them already. She had a scar on her knuckle from opening a package of bullets, not a wound from the bullets but opening the box. There were scars on her shins from shaving her legs, when she actually managed to do so. Her knees had several scars from her rollerblading days when she was little. Not that she thought about it, most of the wounds that scarred over were from stupid things and not even from being beaten to a pulp by ghosts, demons, spirits, and the like. Although, she did have several scars from them too. No man in his right mind would ever want to look at her with as many scars that covered her body. But with her brothers, that wasn't likely to happen anyway.

When she finally left the bathroom, the steam followed her out into the room where Sammy had finally reappeared and was packing his duffel bag. Elle was careful to avoid eye contact with him. Besides, she was wrapped in a towel and needed to grab clothes for the trip anyway. Awkwardly trying to hold her towel over her body, she dug through her duffel bag for something to wear. She eventually just dumped the bags' contents on the floor and picked out a t-shirt, flannel shirt, and pair of jeans that passed the smell test. Yes, she had picked up the smell test from her brothers and she didn't really give a damn about it. She then went back into the bathroom and changed slowly once more and took extra time primping than was necessary for a road trip, because she was still avoiding another inevitable John Winchester conversation. She knew she was probably being immature about the whole thing, but she kinda wanted to plan in her head what the conversation with Sam might be like—which usually ended in her cursing a lot and potentially brawling with Sam. Once she was dressed and her hair braided, she went back into the room to find Sam now on his computer. Elle took this as her chance to get away. She quickly pulled on her converse sneakers and jolted for the door. She had just barely touched the door when Sam spoke up.

"How long are you going to avoid this?" Sam chuckled.

"I was hoping forever and that Dean could just tell you," Elle said honestly.

"Dean told me a little. Did Dad say anything else…anything that he didn't want Dean to know? Something that I should know while I'm researching?"

"No."

"Was that so hard?"

"I was inches from death."

Sam shook his head and went back to work on his computer. Elle looked back at the mess of clothes that she had left on the floor only to find that the mess was no longer there. Sam must've done it for her, because there was no way in hell that Dean would've picked up after her. No, he would've just yelled at her and told her to get her little ass out there and pick up the mess. Elle walked over to Sam and awkwardly gave him a hug to thank him for picking up her mess before she armed herself with her duffel bag, her shoulder bag, and her Gameboy to head outside to the Impala where she found Dean on his phone. Elle watched as he put the phone down and redialed a number and pressed it back up to his ear only to get no response again. Just by looking at him, she knew exactly whom he was calling: Dad. He was probably a bit peeved that their father had called her of all people. Well that, or he thought that Elle hadn't been truthful in the information she had reluctantly handed over. Elle shoved her duffel bag into the trunk, threw her shoulder bag in the backseat, before she sat practically inside the trunk playing Pokemon. She really should invest in getting other games for the console, but she didn't really have the time, energy, or money to do so.

By the time Sam got out to the car, Elle's stomach was grumbling and Dean was somewhat grouchy. Thankfully, she some cherry poptarts stored in her unorganized chaos in the backseat to tide her over. Elle nibbled on her poptarts while Sam and Dean went over the case. Apparently, Sam hadn't found anything remotely interesting about the place when he searched the local police reports and newspapers. Dean looked back at Elle…as if she were hiding something from him about this case. She tried to convince him otherwise, but she was pretty sure that he still didn't believe her.

"Well, if Dad's sending us hunting for something, I don't know what," Sam said.

"Maybe he's going to meet us there. Elle, did Dad say…" Dean started.

"I told you everything he said. The only thing I left out was the sound of disappointment in his voice," Elle retorted.

"You're a real smartass sometimes, you know that?"

"Thank you."

"It's not a compliment."

"But I'm going to take it as one anyway."

"You're so friggin' frustrating. But don't you worry, I'm sure there's something in Fitchburg worth killing."

"You?"

"What makes you so sure?" Sam asked ignoring Elle's sarcastic remark.

"Cause I'm the oldest, which means I'm always right," Dean answered.

"No, it doesn't."

"It totally does."

"Gotta agree with Sammy on this one. Being the oldest just makes you an annoying pain in my ass," Elle groaned.

"Same thing."

The Winchesters rolled into Fitchburg a little after four o'clock in the afternoon. Elle was so bored that she was watching the scenery and noticed the population sign for Fitchburg: 20,501. For a moment, she pondered that one person, before she began to watch the buildings pass by. It was strange not seeing many people out and about, but Elle didn't really think much of it. Dean pulled the Impala into park in front of a place called Glasow's Diner which was on the main drag of the town. Elle went with him inside. Elle had to use the bathroom, while Dean sweet-talked a cute waitress, but Sam was content to wait in the car. Inside the bathroom, Elle examined herself in the mirror. It didn't really feel like tomorrow was her birthday. Twenty-two. Wasn't she supposed to feel older or something? Wiser? More mature? Elle splashed water onto her face before she walked back out into the diner where Dean stood beside the counter with three cups. He picked one up and handed it to her.

"What is this?" Elle asked.

"Hot chocolate. I do know a thing or two about you, believe it or not," Dean responded.

"Not."

"Carry Sammy's."

"Sure, make the birthday girl do the work."

"It's not your birthday…yet."

"Tomorrow."

"I know when your friggin' birthday is."

"Someone's grumps today."

"In case you haven't figured it out yet, the world doesn't revolve around you, Elle."

"What the crap? I don't even know what I did to piss you off, but sheesh, want some Midol for those cramps too?"

"You know what I want, Elle? I want you'd give Dad and I a little more respect."

"I respect you…sometimes."

"And Dad?"

"Not going there. We better get back outside before Sam's coffee gets cold."

Elle picked up Sam's cup from the counter and briskly walked outside back to where Sam stood leaning against the Impala. She handed him his coffee before she leaned against the car with him, sipping her hot chocolate. They stood there in silence for a few moments as Dean drew closer.

"What'd you find out?" Sam asked.

"That Dean's on his period," Elle muttered.

"Do I even want to know?"

"Know what?" Dean asked sipping his cup of coffee.

"Know what you found out."

"Well…the waitress thinks the local freemasons are up to something sneaky sneaky, but other than that no one's heard about anything freaky going on."

"Can either of you tell what's wrong with this picture?" Sam asked as he pointed the near-deserted playground with just one kid playing on the jungle gym, but neither Elle nor Dean responded. "School's out guys. Where is everybody? This place should be crawling with kids right now."

"They probably heard Dean's being grumpy and ran for their lives," Elle commented.

"Or maybe they saw your face," Dean remarked back.

"Whoa, you two have something you need to work through. I'll be over there talking to that mom over there when you're both done acting like preschoolers," Sam said before he walked away.

Dean moved to follow after Sam, but Sam must've anticipated this move because he turned around and told Dean to stay exactly like one would a dog. This made Elle laugh and Dean muttered to himself as he walked back to the Impala. Elle and Dean stood there in silence drinking their warm beverages, neither saying a word. They were both stubborn as hell and neither wanted to budge. They watched as Sam sat down on the bench next to the woman and began talking to her. Elle looked over to Dean who looked straight ahead.

"What's really bothering you?" Elle sighed, giving in first. She hated giving in first. "And for the record, I could've played this game way longer than you. I just don't want to be fighting on my birthday."

"I meant what I said about cutting Dad some slack. There's a lot you don't know about him, Elle," Dean sighed.

"Then tell me."

"It's not my place."

"So what am I supposed to do, forget the past twenty-two years of my life didn't happen?"

"Not quite twenty-two yet," Dean said with a slight grin. "And no, don't forget them—but I just want you to be the little sister I know and love, not the bitter bitch who possess her whenever Dad's somehow involved."

"I'll try—for you. Not for him."

"That's a start, I guess."

"Truce?"

"Yeah, truce—but I have a feeling you're just in it for the birthday present."

"Maybe. Maybe not. The world will never know."

Dean chuckled and shook his head at his little sister and her antics. When she wasn't being bitchy, she really could be quite amusing. Elle and Dean moved to walk toward Sam only to find him already headed toward them. Instead, the two shorter Winchester siblings went back to leaning against the car as the tallest made his way back. Sam took a sip of coffee as he approached his brother and sister somewhat apprehensively.

"That was fast," Dean commented. "Although, you usually are if you know what I mean."

"Uh—you two better?" Sam asked ignoring Dean to the best of his ability.

"Sure, we'll go with that," Elle added. "So, what'd she tell you?"

"Apparently, the parents are pretty anxious with this sickness that's going around. There are five or six kids in the hospital with a serious illness that's apparently contagious."

"What kind of sickness?" Dean asked.

"She didn't say. But I kinda figured the hospital would be our next stop anyway."

Dean nodded. He went to the trunk and pulled out some folded blue scrubs and a stethoscope before he handed them to Elle. She knew exactly what they were going to do. She was going to infiltrate the hospital to gain knowledge from the inside. It made sense with that many sick children. One of them should be there most of the time. She climbed in the backseat of the Impala and told Sam and Dean to keep watch as she changed. She quickly changed into the scrubs and hoped that the hospital was so under-staffed that they wouldn't notice her blue Converse sneakers on her feet. She pulled her braids out, so that her hair cascaded down in soft waves. That should be believable, right? Elle knocked on the window to let her brothers know that she was decent before they climbed into the car and drove to the hospital. They parked toward the back of the parking lot. Elle was going to be given about thirty minutes to get in before Sam and Dean would follow with their disguise of the CDC. Elle was about to get out of the car when Dean told her to hold up a second. He reached in the glove compartment and dug around through the ID badges.

"Good thing we kept this, huh?" Dean said as he handed Elle a badge which she pinned to her top.

"You've done this before?" Sam asked.

"Once, in Chattanooga, not too long before we got you actually," Elle said.

"Do you even know what you're doing?"

"I'm a fast learner. Besides, they never let the new guy do much anyway."

"We need some eyes on the inside, Sammy and unless you wanna do it…" Dean began.

"No, Elle can do it. I'm just not sure that I like this," Sam sighed.

"I don't like it any better than you do—but if it will help us get out of Wisconsin faster, I'm up for it," Elle commented.

Elle flipped her hair and pulled her stethoscope around her neck before she got out of the car and headed inside. Hopefully Dean remembered to make the phone call to the Chattanooga hospital to get her paperwork faxed over. So, she made the walk rather slow and asked several people to direct her to the right place to give Dean enough time. She went up to the receptionist, who appeared to be overworked, and cleared her throat. This startled the woman, which in turn somewhat startled Elle.

"Hi. Sorry. Uh-excuse me. Hi, my name is Elle. I'm a nurse…obviously. Uh-I was informed that you were short staffed and that you requested…" Elle started.

"Oh, thank God," the woman said. "We've been waiting for someone to respond to our cries for help. And look at that, your paperwork just came through, Elle Johnson."

"Here I am."

"Well, it looks like you come highly recommended, but you took some maternity leave."

Elle bit her tongue. She was going to kill Dean of all the reasons he gave that hospital for her leave it had to be because she was pregnant?

"Boy or girl?" The woman asked.

"Twin girls, Samantha and Deanna," Elle retorted. "My little bundles of joy."

"Congratulations, sweetie, but how did you end up here?"

"My boyfriend was an abusive ass and I moved back to be closer to my parents. Which reminds me that I should warn you that I'm a little out of practice, but I really need the job, you know for little Samantha and Deanna."

"Honey, as long as you have good bedside manner and can keep the parents calm, that's all we need at this point and with two little girls, you should be just fine."

"I should be able to manage...I think."

"Why don't you wait over there for a moment while I let Dr. Heidecker know you're here?"

Elle nodded her head and walked over to an empty chair against the wall and sat down as Sam and Dean came walking down the hall. Sam looked rather nervous and appeared to be hissing something at Dean. When the boys got close to Elle, Dean motioned for Sam to continue toward the reception desk as Dean stopped at Elle. With a fake smile, she stood up and outstretched her hand for Dean to shake.

"Pregnant? Really? That's all you could come up with?" Elle hissed at Dean between her teeth.

"It was the only thing that made sense, why you'd be gone so long and disappear. And it was more entertaining. I talked with Brenda, she remembered you and sent her highest recommendations. Oh, and you are on the run from your stalker baby daddy, by the way," Dean responded.

"What if someone asks me for pictures?"

"What'd you tell them you had?"

"Twin girls."

"You know, there's this thing called the internet for that kind of stuff."

"Nurse Johnson, Dr. Heidecker is waiting for you," the receptionist interrupted before giving her directions to his ward. "He'll meet you at the elevator."

Dean moved to walk closer toward Sam when Elle grabbed him by the elbow causing him to look at her.

"You better have the best birthday present in the world ready for me tomorrow," Elle said.

"We'll see," Dean chuckled before he patted his sister's shoulder. "Congrats on the twins, again."

Elle rolled her eyes and Dean walked toward the desk and she headed toward the elevator. She pressed the button up to where she was supposed to meet Heidecker. True to the man's word, he was there to meet her when she got off the elevator. The doctor moved to shake her hand, but he hesitated for a moment, examining her closely for some reason with his eyes slightly narrowed. Elle gave the man an awkward smile who then laughed off whatever awkwardness there had been and he firmly shook her hand before they both got some hand sanitizer. It was a hospital after all.

"So—uh—what's the situation?" Elle asked.

"We've got six cases so far that goes as far back as five weeks," Heidecker started. "At first we thought it was just your garden variety bacterial pneumonia. Nothing that would require all hands on deck, but the kids aren't responding to antibiotics. Their white blood cell counts just keep getter lower, so then their immune systems can't do their jobs…"

"I know what happens when your white blood cell count is low," Elle interrupted. "I did take high school biology."

"And nursing school…"

"That too, but I mean the immune system is taught in high school. I was simply trying to explain how rudimentary the concept is."

"Well, anyway, that's about all we've gotten figured out. Well, that and it seems to spread through families."

"Probably because of close contact with each other?"

"Quite possibly."

"So, what do you need me to do?"

"If you're the praying type, you might wanna do that. Otherwise, just keep a watch on the kids' vitals. Nurse Adams will show you the ropes."

"Oh thank god," Elle breathed which caused Heidecker to look at her curiously. "…you know that there are plenty of people to look after these poor children."

"Right, well we both should get to work."

Dr. Heidecker moved to shake her hand once more, but he stared into her eyes a little longer than necessary which made things awkward. This old guy couldn't possibly be hitting on her, could he? Elle blushed for a moment before she walked over to the woman named Nurse Adams, who was going to supervise her. Elle found out the woman's first name was Jacki and the woman introduced her to each of the unconscious children that they were going to be looking after. They went around room to room and Elle listened carefully as Jacki told her about the children. It was quite obvious that the woman cared for the kids and wanted to see them well again. The last room they visited was Mary and Bethany's room. They were sisters and it was quite obvious that their father blamed himself, from the very little he spoke with Elle. Elle sat down beside the man and smiled kindly at him, trying her best to give him some small comfort. There came a knock at the door and both Elle and the man looked up to see two men for the CDC aka Sam and Dean standing there.

"Uh—Mr. Schultz, could we borrow you for a few moments?" Dean asked.

"I don't want to leave them," Mr. Schultz said.

"Please, sir, the CDC wants to get to the bottom of this as much as you do," Sam responded.

Mr. Schultz looked to his children and Elle reached her hand over to his. She assured him that she would personally watch over them until he got back. Jacki noticed her gesture and nodded her head as Mr. Schultz agreed to the terms. He walked away with Sam and Dean and Jacki moved to check on the other kids. This left Elle alone with the girls. She looked over her shoulder to make sure that no one was looking before she pulled an EMF meter out of her pocket and turned it on. She walked closer to each of the girls, but the meter picked up nothing. Maybe John Winchester had been wrong about this one. It didn't really seem like there was anything going on here…just a normal sickness. It was a sad sight to see, but it didn't seem to be of the supernatural sort, meaning that there really wasn't anything Elle could do. Her heart went out to the little girls. This shouldn't be happening to them. They should be outside playing some stupid game or another. Elle picked up one of the children's books, Don't Let the Pidgeon Drive the Bus, from the bedside table that their father had probably been reading to them. She leaned against the table and began to read the book out loud to the girls. If this book had been around when she was a kid, she knew she would've loved this crazy, stupid book. Elle didn't even realize Mr. Schultz had returned back to the room until she heard him blow his nose.

"I—I'm sorry," Elle apologized as she set the book back down. "I just thought…I'm so sorry."

"That book is Bethany's favorite," Mr. Schultz responded. "I've read it to her every night since…"

"Nurse, could we borrow you for a second?" Dean asked.

"I—uh—yeah, sure," Elle responded as she awkwardly pulled her hair behind her ears.

Elle walked outside the room and looked up at the brothers that towered over her. They discussed if any of them had figured out anything. Elle told her brothers that she hadn't seen anything of the supernatural sort so far and Sam went as far as to muse what Elle kept silent about it was just pneumonia. But Dean wasn't buying it. The boys concluded that they would heave over to the Schultz family home while Elle remained at the hospital and kept an eye on things here. Sam promised to call if they had any updates on the situation. Elle shook both the boys hands for the sake of appearance before she went back to work, checking on the sick children under Dr. Heidecker's watchful eye.

Not to belittle a nurse's work, but Elle found herself doing menial things like reading to the children, bringing in trays of food, and taking vitals, which she had learned in Chattanooga. Beyond that, she was probably useless to these people. Thankfully, her outward cheerful appearance seemed to be working…at least with her superior nurse and the patients' families. She was glad to get the phone call from Sam, so she could have a moment to not have to act so cheerful. Acting was hard. She pulled the phone out of her pocket and pressed the call button before she pressed it against her ear as she leaned against the wall.

"You got something?" Elle asked.

"This is definitely our kind of thing," Sam said.

"What'd you find?"

"A rotted handprint into some wood."

"So?"

"On the inside of a window on the second story…coming from the outside."

"Okay, that's a little creepy."

"Dean wants to know if you remember a handprint like it."

"The only handprints I can think of are those handprint turkeys I used to make. I was awesome at those."

"Are you sure?" Dean asked suddenly taking the phone from Sam.

"Should I be?"

"Remember we're on a truce."

"I know. Honestly, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Elle was being completely honest with her brother, which made her somewhat miffed that he didn't believe her. How was she supposed to remember something she didn't remember happening? But Dean was onto something…

~*~ Flashback ~*~

A little Elle Winchester sat on one of the motel beds with her oldest brother Dean, coloring one of her hand turkeys. Only, she wasn't making this one colorful like a turkey. She was making this one into her family. Each finger was a member of her family. Daddy was the middle finger, Mommy was the ring finger, Dean was the pointer finger, Sammy was the thumb, and Elle was the pinky finger. It worked perfectly. She colored each finger like a person, giving them eyes, mouth, nose, hair, and clothes.

"Dean, how'd you spell our last name?" Elle asked.

"What do they teach you in school?" Dean scoffed.

"Plllleeeeaaaassseee?"

"W-I-N-C-H-E-S-T-E-R."

"Thank you!"

They had been practicing manners at school that week. Elle had them down, much to the annoyance of her family. She had written their last name in the palm of the hand in blue crayon and drew confetti in the background. By confetti, she just put a bunch of colorful dots so that it wasn't white. She admired her handiwork as Dean also looked at a picture. Elle tried to get a look at what he was looking at, so she crawled closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder to see that he was looking at some sort of scary handprint.

"What's that?" young Elle questioned.

"Do you think I'd be looking at it if I knew, Elle?" Dean responded. "And you shouldn't be looking at this stuff."

Just then John Winchester entered the room loading his sawn-off shot gun. The sight made Elle's eyes slightly widen before she scrambled back to her coloring so that her dad wouldn't see what she had been doing. Dean sat on the picture for the exact same reason Elle crawled away. He sat up a little straighter as their father came closer to the bed. He motioned for Dean to move away from Elle with him. Elle pretended to busy herself with her coloring as she sneakily listened to what her dad was telling Dean. Something about a phone call with only one ring and not letting Elle answer the phone. She looked over at her father who was looking directly at her. She looked back at him sheepishly because he knew she was listening. She looked back down at her picture and picked up a green crayon to color some grass as she continued to listen, but her father's voice had gotten quieter. Dean hadn't though. She heard something about Pastor Jim, watching out for her and Sammy, and last but not least shoot first, ask questions later. Elle looked up to see her father patting Dean on the shoulder before he moved to head for the door. Elle picked up her picture and ran across the room barefoot toward her father, her pigtails swinging behind her.

"Daddy, wait!" Elle called as she ran.

John stopped at the door and turned around to look at his daughter ran toward him in one of the boys' hand-me-down t-shirts with a big smile on his face. His face made no emotion as she stopped and hugged at his leg. Instead, he looked another up at the ceiling instead of down at her.

"I need to go, Campbell," John said.

Elle made a motion with her finger for him to come down to his level. Rather reluctantly, John bent to his knees as Elle cupped her hands by his ear and whispered that she had made the picture for him. She set the picture into his hands and hugged at his arm, leaning her head against his shoulder as he examined it. For a moment, it looked like John was filled with emotion—but that moment was very brief as he brought his hand to the handprint on the paper. He looked to Elle and started to say something before he stopped and a coldness seemed to fill his eyes once more.

"I have no use for this, Campbell," John said rather gruffly.

"It's for you to keep," Elle beamed proudly. "So you won't forget us. I love you, Daddy."

"I don't need any reminders."

John quickly stood up, knocking Elle to the floor. As he walked out, he slipped Elle's picture into the trash bin before he closed the door behind him. Elle's eyes welled up with tears as she saw her hard work fall into the garbage. She picked herself up and ran over to where Dean sat with Sam watching TV. She jumped onto Dean's lap and cuddled close with him as they three Winchesters watched cartoons.

~*~ End Flashback ~*~

"Elle, you still there?" Sam's voice came over the phone.

"Hmm—yeah," Elle said. "Sorry, zoned-out for a second there."

"I know why Dad sent us here," Dean said. "He's faced this thing before and he wants us to finish the job."

"I thought we already knew that much," Elle said with a yawn.

"But I know what the thing is."

"What?"

"A shtriga."

"Gesundheit."

"Funny, that's what the thing's called, a shtriga."

"What the hell is that?"

"I'll explain more when you get back to the motel."

"Hopefully the next three hours of anticipation doesn't kill me. Also, can you come pick me up?"

"Left Baby there after we checked out Schultz' house. You know where the key is?"

"Yup. Bye."

"Don't cra…"

Elle hung up the phone as Dr. Heidecker drew closer and shoved her cell phone back into her pocket. He seemed to be keeping an annoyingly close watch on her. She didn't remember doctor's hovering so much in Chattanooga. Superior nurses, yes. Doctors, not so much. But maybe this place was different. After all, she didn't really know much about the medical profession anyway. Elle smiled at Dr. Heidecker and told him to have a good night, because he appeared to be on his way out for the night. He didn't say anything, just gave a fake smile and nodded his head. Elle yawned once more before she went back to the patients she was attending.

By the time her shift was over, she was exhausted and the thought of being back there tomorrow was mentally draining. On her way back to the motel, she stopped at the closest grocery store and bought too much food. It really wasn't good to go shopping on an empty stomach. She bought a piece of tuxedo cake, a bag of Doritos, a Dr. Pepper, a container of milk, and a box of Reeses Puffs cereal. She sat out in the parking lot of the motel and ate everything but her box of cereal and the milk. She was going to save that for the morning, but her stomach still grumbled as she walked toward the room. So, she opened the box and ate a handful before opening the door. As she chewed on her cereal, she found Sam and Dean around the laptop. Dean looked at her with concern.

"Did Baby make it back in one piece?"

"I stopped at the store and got some cereal," Elle said. "I was starving. Also, I just might eat the whole box of cereal and there's nothing either of you can do about it."

"What about Baby?"

"And how are you doing, Elle? Why, I'm fine, Dean, thanks for asking. I see you made it back in one piece. Yes, Baby and I are both in the land of the living. Good talking with you. You too."

Elle popped a handful of cereal into her mouth before she offered the box to Sam and Dean which made Dean shake his head.

"What?" Elle asked with her mouth full.

~*~ Flashback~*~

A young Sam sat with a young Elle at a small table while Dean poured milk into their glasses. Elle sat with her head on her hands which rested on the table. She examined her bowl of cereal that sat in front of her as Dean walked back to the stove to grab a hot pot.

"When's Dad gonna get back?" Sam asked.

"Tomorrow," Dean responded as he picked the pot up.

"When tomorrow?" Elle asked.

"I dunno. He usually gets in late though."

Dean set a bowl down in front of Sam. Sam scowled at the bowl in front of him as Elle picked up her spoon and took a bite of her cereal.

"I'm sick of Spaghetti-o's," Sam groaned.

"Well, you're the one who wanted 'em!" Dean groaned right back.

"I want Lucky Charms. Elle gets Lucky Charms."

"There are no more Lucky Charms and Elle doesn't like Spaghetti-o's. She puked last time she had them."

"She made herself puke."

"Did not!" Elle argued coming quickly to her defense. "My tummy hurt."

"Besides, I saw the box!"

"Okay, maybe there are some left, but there's only enough for one bowl and I haven't had any yet," Dean said.

Sam looked up at Dean and gave him the puppy dog eyes. For fun, Elle joined in with her own puppy dog eyes and even made whimpering noises like a pup. So then Sam started to make the noises too. Dean shook his head and sighed before he took Sam's bowl and handed Sam a new bowl and the box of cereal. Sam reached inside the box and pulled out the toy with a grin on his face before he turned to Dean who had taken a bite of Spaghetti-o's.

"D'you want the prize?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded his head before Sam tossed the prize over to him. Elle felt a little sad seeing Dean eating the Spaghetti-o's. So she carefully picked up her bowl of cereal and walked over to Dean with it, trying not to spill any milk on the floor. He had taken his third bite when he looked at Elle.

"Wanna trade?" Elle asked sweetly.

"You don't even like these," Dean responded.

"I want Bahsghetti-o's," Elle said innocently. "Cross my heart."

"You're sure?" Dean asked.

Elle nodded her head and held her bowl out for Dean to grab.

"Thanks, Elle-Belle," Dean said with a smile.

Dean took the bowl of cereal before he set the Spaghetti-o's on the table at Elle's place. He ate the cereal over the sink as Elle went back to her spot at the table. Later, when Dean went to do the dishes, he noticed the bowl of Spaghetti-o's was still full and that Elle hadn't eaten a single bite of them. He looked over at his sister who was fast asleep on the couch and shook his head. He knew she was going to be hungry when she woke up.

~*~ End Flashback ~*~

When Elle finished chewing her cereal, she sat down at the table with her brothers and rested her feet on the empty chair. After a day on her feet, they deserved to be elevated.

"Now, about his string-thing," Elle commented.

"Shtriga," Dean groaned.

"Yeah, that. What do we know about it?"

"Other than the fact that it apparently got away from Dad in Fort Douglas and it's a witch, that's all Dean's said," Sam responded.

"Dad let something get away?"

"It happens," Dean growled.

"Not often," Elle said.

"Which is exactly what I said," Sam added.

"Have you found anything else yet?" Dean directed toward Sam.

"You said it wasn't going to be easy. I'm still looking."

"Well look faster."

"You're grumpy again," Elle said.

"So?"

"So, you get grumpy when either you think someone's hiding something from you, you're on your man period, or you are hiding something. Which box will it be?"

"How about all the above?" Sam said with a smirk.

"And now the wannabe stand-up comedians have entered the building," Dean grumbled.

"We're actually sitting down," Elle retorted.

"You know what I mean."

"Hey, we have a truce, buddy. So you better be over this in…forty-three minutes or I will kick your ass for being an ass on my birthday."

Dean shook his head and leaned back in the chair with his hands behind his head. He told Elle to toss him a Reese's puff, so she did; but she missed and it went up his nose. This made them both snort. So she tried again. He had to move his mouth to catch it, but he did. They continued this game until Sam interrupted them.

"Guys, I got something. It wasn't easy to find, but Dean was right about the Shtriga being some kind of witch. They're Albanian, but legends trace them back to Ancient Rome. They feed off spiritus vitae," Sam said.

"Spiri-what?" Dean questioned.

"Vitae, it's Latin, it translates to…"

"Breath of life," Elle cut in while Sam gave her an odd look. "What? I told you my online Latin thingy wasn't all that bad."

"Well, the breath of life is kinda like your life force or essence," Sam continued.

"Didn't the doctor say the kids' bodies were wearing out?"

"It could make sense," Elle pondered. "She takes away your vitality and then your immune system goes to hell, causing pneumonia to settle in."

"Anyway, shtrigas can feed off anyone, but they prefer…" Sam started.

"Children," Dean interrupted.

"Do you two always have to do that?"

"Yes," Dean and Elle said together.

"Anyway, they probably do it because kids have a stronger life force. But get this, shtrigas are invulnerable to all weapons devised by God and man."

"No, that's not right," Dean countered. "She's vulnerable when she feeds."

"What?"

"If you catch her when she's eating, you can blast her with consecrated wrought iron—uh—buckshots or rounds, I think."

"And how exactly do you know this?" Elle asked before popping a piece of cereal into her mouth.

"Dad told me and I remembered. Simple as that."

"Huh—so, uh—anything else Dad might've mentioned?" Sam asked.

"Not to me."

"Me either for the record," Elle added.

"So, Dad doesn't tell any of us anything, now that we've got that recapped, what now?" Sam questioned.

"I guess we kill the thing."

"That isn't going to be a cakewalk. According to this, shtrigas take on a human disguise when they're not hunting."

"What kind of human disguise?" Dean asked.

"Historically, something innocuous. Could be anything, but it's usually a feeble old woman, which might be how the witches as old crones legend got started."

Dean put up a finger for them to wait a minute. He walked across the room to another table and picked up a map. He explained that he had marked all the addresses of the victims before he spread the map down on the table. Dead center between all those houses was the hospital. Their hunch of things somehow revolving around the hospital appeared to be adding up.

"Now when were there, I saw a patient, and old woman," Dean said.

"And old person huh? Sam said trying not to laugh.

"Yeah."

"In a hospital? Phew! Better call the Coast Guard."

"Think a SWAT team will be necessary?" Elle chimed in.

"Laugh-it-up, smart-asses, this woman had an inverted cross hanging on her wall," Dean said.

"We still might wanna call the Coast Guard," Elle dead-panned.

The Winchesters headed back to the hospital. Dean grumbled at the Dorito crumbs in the front seat as he drove. When Dean pulled Baby into a parking spot, Elle spotted Dr. Heidecker coming out of the hospital. Hadn't he left earlier? But he came back? He must really care about his patients, Elle mused. That—or he was married to his work. The latter was probably true because she couldn't recall seeing a ring on his finger. The Winchesters headed inside, Elle once again in her scrubs.

"This sucks, I don't even get 12 hours between shifts," Elle groaned.

"You do realize you don't really work here, right?" Dean commented.

"You do realize you're an ass, right?" Elle retorted right back. "Besides, you have to be nice to me."

"Not for another…nine minutes."

Elle rolled her eyes as she followed behind Dean who led them inside the hospital. It was quite easy for them to get inside, despite the fact that probably should've been considered armed and dangerous with the heat Elle was packing in her shoulder bag. They easily snuck inside the old woman's room as she handed Sam and Dean their weapons from her bag. The Winchesters raised their weapons at the old woman who was in her wheelchair facing the corner with her back toward them. Dean approached her and leaned in closer toward her face.

"Who the hell are you!" the old woman snapped.

Dean freaked out and leapt back against the dresser, pulling his gun back up. Elle hid herself behind Sam who looked at Dean to for how to proceed. But the woman just continued to grumble.

"Who's there?" You trying to steal my stuff? They're always stealing around here."

It was now obvious that the woman couldn't see very well. The Winchesters relaxed a little as Sam moved to turn the lights on. He announced that they were maintenance workers before apologizing for bothering her while she was sleeping.

"Nonsense, I was sleeping with my peepers open!" the woman cackled before she pointed behind Dean. "And fix that crucifix, would ya? I've asked four damn times already!"

Dean looked at the woman before he nodded his head and swung the crucifix to its proper position. He then got the hell out of that room, much to the amusement of Sam and Elle. Elle was about to give him crap for what had just happened when her phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket to see that she had a text message from John Winchester. She rolled her eyes and went to delete it without even opening it, but she remembered her promise to Dean. She opened it only to find a bunch of numbers and a random pound sign: 112163 112196 11#9632 969363. What a way to start her birthday, a creepy old woman and a butt-text from John Winchester. She hoped that this wasn't any indication for the next year. Elle reminded her brothers of which day it now was before they both grumbled a happy birthday to her before they got back to the car. By the time they got back to the motel, Sam couldn't stop laughing about the old woman.

"I was sleeping with my peepers open," Sam mimicked before laughing.

"I almost smoked that old girl, I swear, it's not funny!" Dean hissed.

"Oh, it's funny," Elle added.

"You shoulda seen your face, man," Sam continued.

"Keep laughing because now we're back to square one."

"Which means I still have to be at work in…two and a half hours. I'm going to crash," Elle said.

Elle walked back to the motel room as she saw her brothers approach a little boy who was crying outside the office. She was torn between wanting to go over and help Sam and Dean, but she knew that she would be needed at the hospital later. Meaning that sleep was more important at this time. Elle overslept and woke-up fifteen minutes before she was supposed to be back at the hospital. She quickly pulled on her scrubs and threw her hair up in a messy bun because she didn't have time to brush it or do anything with it. She was glad to see Sam siting in the car outside the door. She quickly jumped into the front seat beside Sam, which was a little weird. Normally, she was in the front with Dean. Sam smiled at her as she shut the door.

"You're a lifesaver," Elle said out-of-breath.

"Can't have you late on your birthday," Sam commented. "By the way, Dean's already over there. The motel owner's kid was attacked last night."

"Sheesh! This is just becoming more and more complicated, isn't it?"

"Tell me about it."

"So, where is it?"

"What?"

"My present. I know you got me one."

"And because I know you so well—this is the gift before the real gift which I left at the motel."

"Ooh, more than one present, Elle likey."

Sam pulled a small package out of his jacket. Elle eagerly grabbed it and unwrapped the poorly wrapped present. Inside was two drawing pencils taped to a candy bar. He knew her well. Her current drawing pencils were practically nubs and one could never go wrong with chocolate. She smiled before she pressed a kiss against her brother's cheek as he was driving, which he complained about and tried to wipe it away with his shoulder. Elle's candy bar was gone before they even got to the hospital: breakfast of champions as some would say. She ran inside and made it up to the floor she had been working to find Jacki waiting for her. They made their first round of the children when she was paged to take a phone call. Odd. Who would be calling her? Sam and Dean would call her cell phone. Elle made her way to the desk and picked up the phone.

"Is it your birthday, Honey?" the receptionist from yesterday asked.

"Yeah, it is," Elle said all embarrassed. She was pretty sure she was blushing over the phone.

"Well, a delivery came for you. I'll send it right up."

Elle waited by the elevator for the delivery. She was somewhat embarrassed to see a bouquet of flowers with a "Happy Birthday" balloon attached. They handed them over to her and Elle pulled out the card. The only thing on it was her name—nothing else. Strange. Sam and Dean didn't really seem like the buy a girl flowers at work type…but they had been known to surprise her. She examined the collection of summer flowers. She had seen that combination somewhere before, but she couldn't place her finger on it. Hell, she didn't even know what kind of flowers they were—but she knew that she had seen them before.

"Nurse Johnson, Dr. Heidecker needs your assistance," another nurse called.

"Coming!" Elle called back.

Elle set the bouquet on the counter and jogged over to where Heidecker stood. Apparently, they needed to move one of the kids out of the bed he was in because he wet himself. Elle was there to help lift the boy from one bed to the other. Elle stood beside Dr. Heidecker as she watched the boy sympathetically. The man took notice to the mark behind her ear before he narrowed his eyes at Elle.

"How'd you get that scar?" Dr. Heidecker asked. "The one behind your left ear."

"No idea," Elle said before she rubbed at the mark behind her ear. "It's funny—I can't remember a thing about this one. I can give you about a hundred embarrassing stories about the others, but that one I got nothing."

"We need to talk in private."

One of the other nurses shrugged at Elle before Elle followed Heidecker into the hallway. The man looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was looking before he pushed her against the wall, gripping her neck. She tried to move away, but he only squeezed tighter. He pressed his finger against the scar behind her ear with his other hand.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave the premise."

"Because of a scar?"

"There's a little more to it than that."

Heidecker released Elle's throat, which caused her to lean over to catch her breath.

"Then explain it to me or I will take you to court for unlawful termination or domestic abuse, your choice."

"It's not a termination. Your services are just no longer required. We've got a handle on the situation. And you see, you and I were having a romantic tryst. Young girls do tend to flock to older men. At least, that is what I've understood from your type. Now, I suggest you get back to Chattanooga, if that's really where you're from which I doubt, if you know what's good for you and I think you do."

Elle rubbed at her neck, before she walked to another kid's room to find Dean sitting there. He rose to his feet when he noticed Elle coming toward him.

"It's Heidecker," Elle and Dean said simultaneously.

"Sam told me—how'd you figure it out?" Dean asked.

"Heidecker just cornered me and fired me because of some scar I have," Elle hissed angrily. "But it wasn't the scar—it was the way he acted, telling me that I should know what's good for me and stuff."

"Which scar did he point out?" Dean asked.

"This one," Elle said pointing toward the one behind her ear. Dean became quiet and looked at his sister solemnly.

"Do you know how you got that one?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that? I don't have a friggin' clue!"

"He must be on to you."

"Already figured out that much—but I can't figure out how."

"Recognizes his own handiwork."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Heidecker is the shtriga."

"I know, but what does that have to do with me?"

"I'll explain later."

Just then, Dr. Heidecker came into the room.

"I thought I told you to get off the premise. Do I need to call security?" Dr. Heidecker stated.

"No, I was just turning down this man's offer of a date," Elle lied before she turned her back to Dean. "I'll be leaving now."

Elle grabbed her flowers, which were sure to die, before she headed outside. Sam had the Impala, meaning that she had to walk. What a crap-tastic way to spend one's birthday. Walking down the road in scrubs, carrying flowers with a balloon, while jerks honk at you as they pass by. Thankfully, Sam and Dean met up with her in the car before she got halfway back to the motel. The car ride was silent. When they got back to the motel, Elle set the flowers down on the table near the window.

"Which one of you did this?" Elle groaned as she pointed to the flowers.

"Wasn't me," Dean said. "Sammy?"

"I already gave her part one and told part two is right here," Sam said holding up another package.

"So then who sent me flowers?" Elle questioned.

"One case at a time," Dean said. "First, this shtriga business. How the hell did we miss it being Heidecker?"

"If anyone should've seen it, it should've been me. He was acting creepy since I got there, now that I think about it."

"Meaning that he probably had you pegged from the get-go. But why fire you?"

"This way she won't be near the epicenter of things?" Sam suggested.

"I mean, basically he just made it harder for me to find the needle in the haystack. At the hospital, things were centralized. Now, we don't have a clue," Elle said.

"Yeah, we do—shtrigas work through siblings," Dean mused. "And last night it went after Asher. Meaning that tonight, it'll probably go after Michael."

"Which means we gotta get him out of here," Sam said.

"No, that would blow the whole deal."

"What?" Elle coughed.

"He wants to use the kid as bait," Sam started. "Are you nuts? No! Forget it! That's out of the question."

"It's not out of the question, Sam. It's the only way. If this thing disappears it could be year before we get another chance," Dean argued.

"He's a kid, Dean and we're not going to dangle him in front of that thing like a worm on hook."

"Because we've never done it before," Elle muttered before pointing to herself. "Case and point."

"Dad didn't send me here to walk away," Dean grunted.

"Send you here? He didn't send you here—he sent us here," Sam argued.

"Let's not forget he did call me," Elle added.

"Well, you two aren't the ones who screwed up, all right. It's my fault. There's no telling how many kids have gotten hurt because of me," Dean hissed.

"What are you saying, Dean?" Sam asked. "How is this your fault?"

"I'm failing to make the connection myself," Elle added.

Dean stared at them and didn't make a sound. He just sat on the bed, with his head in his hands. Sam was going on about how he knew Dean was hiding something from them, but Elle walked over and knelt down on the floor in front of Dean. She pressed her hand against her brother's cheek which caused his green eyes to meet her blue ones.

"Come on, Dean, talk to us," Elle said sympathetically.

He reached out and touched the scar that was behind her left ear.

"I don't think I ever said I was sorry for that," Dean whispered.

"For what?" Elle asked.

"Fort Douglas, Wisconsin. It was our third night in this crap motel room and I was climbing the walls. I just needed some air, that's all."

~*~Flashback~*~

Young Dean Winchester sat bored on a chair watching TV. He looked over at the clock that hung on the wall. The main office should still be open. He got up and turned the TV off before he walked closer to the room to take a quick peek at Elle and Sam sleeping. Sleeping, they should be fine. He was almost to the front door when he heard Elle call his name softly. He stopped in his tracks and turned around to see her with one pigtail in one out, wrapped in a blanket.

"Dean, I'm hungry," Elle said half-asleep leaning against the doorframe yawning.

"You shoulda eaten your Lucky Charms, I was fine with the Spaghetti-o's," Dean responded.

"But you looked sad. I didn't want you to look sad anymore."

"Fine, you can come with me and get something from the vending machines; but just don't tell Dad."

"Okay."

Elle ran over to Dean and jumped into his open arms before he shut the door behind him. She rested her head in the crook of his neck as he carried her to the main office. He pulled some money out of his pocket before he bought Elle a bag of chips and a bag of cookies from the vending machine. He set her down on the floor with her food while he went over to play one of the arcade games. He hadn't even realized that she had fallen back asleep in a pile of crumbs until the owner told him that they were closing up for the night and that the two of them should leave. Dean picked up a limp Elle and carried her across the parking lot and back to their motel room.

When they got back inside, Dean saw a strange light coming from Sam's room. He shook Elle awake as he slowly moved closer toward Sam's room. Elle slowly awoke, but when she saw the shtriga over Sam, she screamed causing the shtriga to turn their direction. A now wide-awake Elle, jumped from Dean's arms and tried to run, but the shtriga left Sam and pounced onto Elle, pinning her against the floor. She screamed and tried to get away as Dean cocked his gun, but hesitated. Suddenly, John Winchester burst into the room and things got really weird. He began shooting at the shtriga, but when the shtriga touched Elle it began to hiss. A loud high-pitched noise began to sound and the room began to shake, and glass shattered.. The shtriga must've gotten scared because it jumped through the bedroom window, shattering the glass that was left in the window.

"Dean, go to your brother," John shouted over the noise.

John ran over and picked a shrieking Elle off the floor. He cradled her tight as he ran her over to the bed as things began to settle down. John held Elle tighter, trying to calm her down; but Elle reached up and snaked her arms around Dean's neck and pulled herself closer to him. This seemed to settle her down a little, but she continued to shake. In his pain, John reached for Sam and cradled him closer—asking if he was okay. Sam was sleepy and confused about the situation, unlike Elle who still clung to Dean.

"What happened?" John asked.

"I—I just went out," Dean said.

"What?"

"Just for a second. I'm sorry."

"I told you not to leave this room. I told you not to let either of them out of your sight!"

Dean hugged Elle tighter before he looked sadly up at John who was cradling Sam, with almost an expression of hurt on his face…not that Dean noticed.

~*~ End Flashback ~*~

"Why don't I remember any of this?" Elle commented.

"I don't know," Dean said. "I figured that you would since it did end up going after you."

"Well, I don't—which is stupid. It's like someone just stole the memory from me. I mean, John Winchester did something nice and I don't remember it? It's almost like you're making it up."

"I'm not. I wish I were."

"What happened after that?" Sam asked.

"Dad just…grabbed us and booked. Dropped us off at Pastor Jim's about three hours away, but by the time he got back to Fort Douglas, the shtriga had disappeared, it was just gone. It never surfaced until now. You know, Dad never spoke about it again. I didn't ask. But he—uh—he looked at me different, you know? Which was worse. Not that I blame him. He gave me an order and I didn't listen. I almost got the two of you killed," Dean said.

"Dean you were just a kid."

"If it means anything, I don't blame you either—but that's probably because I don't remember," Elle added with a slight smile.

"Guys, don't. Dad knew this unfinished business for me. He sent me to finish it," Dean stated.

"But using Michael—I don't know, Dean. I mean, how 'bout one of us hides under the covers, you know, we'll be the bait," Sam argued.

"No, it won't work. It's gotta be close enough to feed—it'll see us and it recognized Elle. Believe me, I don't like it, but it's gotta be the kid."

The Winchester boys went to talk to Michael, while Elle remained in the room. She hadn't already established a relationship with the kid, so she figured that Sam and Dean would be better off on their own. So, she began to brainstorm ideas of how to best keep the kid safe if he agreed to the plan—which everything was hinging on. If the kid said no, well then they were all in a deep load of crap. The door flung open and in walked an angry Dean.

"That well, huh?" Elle asked.

"It went crappy, the kid said no," Dean groaned. "Now what?"

"What'd you really expect?" Sam asked. "You can't ask an adult to do something like that, much less a little kid."

"So, we're back to the drawing board," Elle mused. "Can we use him unwillingly?"

"Elle," Sam groaned.

"I mean, what if he didn't know? Would it really be that bad? We get the bad guy, the kid lives, same outcome."

"Do you hear yourself right now?"

"I know its crap and I don't like it, but literally everything I plan hinged on the kid."

There was a knock at the door. Dean opened it to reveal Michael standing there somewhat nervously. Elle leaned her chair back and peeked through the curtain on the scene. The kid asked if he would do anything for his little brother and Dean responded that he'd do anything for his little brother or little sister. The thought made Elle smile as Michael agreed that he wanted to help. That thought made Elle sad for a minute. The kid would never be able to unsee what he saw. He'd never get a take-back and live a normal life. He was literally throwing away his innocence for the sake of his brother. That was what love was all about, wasn't it? She'd do the same thing for Sam or Dean if she ultimately had to choose between saving them or going back to a world in the dark of the supernatural.

The Winchesters prepped Michael's room for the upcoming shtriga attack. They "borrowed" a security camera from the front office and placed it in Michael's bedroom facing the bed so that they could see everything that was going on just outside his room. Sam, Dean, and Elle would be ready to go when the shtriga showed up. Elle sat out on the couch, playing with the computer screen and shouting directions for Sam and Dean inside Michael's room. After a few minutes of silence, Michael came out to talk to her.

"Hey, Michael, how're you feeling?" Elle asked.

"Nervous," Michael responded.

"That's normal. I get that way all the time and I've been doing this for years."

"Dean says it's your birthday," Michael said.

"Yup," Elle responded.

"Thank you for helping me on your birthday."

"You're most welcome, but can I ask for one small thing in return?"

"Yeah, anything."

"Do you have ice cream? A birthday isn't complete without some ice cream, right?"

"Yeah, I think Mom has some cookie dough ice cream in the freezer that I'm not supposed to know about."

"You're a good kid and a good brother. Your brother might not always show how much he appreciates what you do for him, but he does," Elle said before looking up to Dean. "She really does."

"I'm a boy," Michael said.

"Yeah, I know that."

"You might wanna get that ice cream now," Dean said.

Elle took the hint and got a bowl of ice cream from the freezer. She asked the boys if they wanted any, but they didn't. She sat between her brothers on the couch as she sang Happy Birthday to herself while eating her ice cream. This was probably her worst birthday yet, but somehow it didn't really seem to bother her as she put things into perspective. She was with both her brothers who were alive and well. That was what really counted. Sometime after midnight, Elle fell asleep against Dean's shoulder. Dean chuckled at his little sister whose mouth was wide open as she slept. After three, Elle was forced awake by her brothers when they spotted something coming over the security camera feed.

"I'm awake," Elle groaned, not actually awake. "I'm awake—peepers open."

"It's show time," Sam said.

"Not quite, but you need to stay awake," Dean responded.

"Got it," Elle yawned.

They watched the footage as the shtriga moved closer to Michael's bed before it was leaning over it. Elle could only imagine how terrified Michael was—frozen with fear, unable to move. Her heart went out to the poor kid. As the shtriga started to lean closer and open its mouth, the Winchesters bolted over to the door into Michaels' room. Sam kicked the door open.

"Hey!" Sam shouted.

"Michael, down! Elle go!"

Michael rolled off the bed and hid underneath it. Elle army crawled across the floor to where Michael lay on the floor to make sure the kid was all right as Sam and Dean began opening fire on the shtriga. They shot the thing multiple times. Elle held Michael tight, whispering to him that it was going to be all right until the shots stopped and the shtriga lay motionless on the ground. Thank goodness it was over. Dean bent over to where Elle lay on the floor holding Michael.

"You guys all right?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Michael and Elle said simultaneously.

"Sit tight for a minute."

Elle gently rubbed Michael's arm reassuringly as Dean walked over to the shtriga. He kicked it, but it did nothing. Dean looked over to Sam when the thing suddenly lunged toward Dean and grabbed him by the throat. Elle could hear Dean's gasping for air before the shtriga tossed him into a chest of drawers, probably knocking him unconscious.

"Dean!" Sam shouted

Elle rolled out from under the bed. She wasn't entirely sure what her body was doing—it seemed like the courage buried deep within her was just taking over her body. She had family and a little boy to protect. By this point, the thing had Sam pinned against the floor.

"Remember me?" Elle grunted before she sprinted toward the shtriga. "You better back off my brother, bitch."

But the shtriga, with a hold on Sam, moved away from Elle. Since when do these suckers run? Elle moved to run the other direction, but again the shtriga went the other direction. What the hell? It was like a game of tag and Elle was it. Shouldn't it be the other way around? Shouldn't it be chasing her? She moved to rush it straight on when a shout came from behind her. The second her hands came in contact with the shtriga it screamed and the house began to shake. The thing managed to escape Elle's grasp, leaving Sam behind, and it bolted toward the window.

"Elle, stay down!" Dean shouted as he fired his gun.

Dean hit the shtriga between the eyes and the thing fell backwards. Dean asked if they were okay, before he helped Sam and Elle to their feet. The Winchesters hovered over the shtriga as it began to disintegrate.

"What were you thinking, Elle?" Dean questioned. "Playing tag and tackling a shtriga?"

"I don't know—I guess I wasn't thinking really," Elle said breathing heavily. "Well, I mean I thought of what you and Sam would do for me and then next thing I knew, my feet were moving before my brain could process. But why the hell did the thing run from me?"

"It's like it was scared of you or something," Sam furthered.

"I'm 5'2". Very terrifying. Besides, he wasn't scared of me earlier today in human form."

"He wasn't vulnerable then. But something about you terrified it."

"Well, last time it went after her, things did get a little freaky. Almost thought it was gonna happen again," Dean said. "Probably has bad memories of you. At least I'm not the only one."

"Hey, you have to be nice…" Elle started.

"It's not your birthday anymore," Dean said with a smirk.

"This sucks," Elle groaned.

"But maybe we should just pretend like yesterday never happened and that today is June 19," Sam suggested.

"Works for me," Dean said with a shrug.

"Can I have my presents now?" Elle asked innocently. "I think I earned them."

They made sure that Michael was all right before they brought him back to their motel room, so that the kid could get a good night's sleep. Surprisingly, Michael fell asleep almost right away. Leaving the Winchesters awake as Elle opened her presents. Sam's other present was a caricature he had someone do of the three of them. They all looked so goofy, but Elle appreciated it immensely. Dean then handed his present over. It was a gold photo album with her name in gold lettering and inside was pictures of their mother. With tears stinging her eyes, Elle hugged each of her brothers. Today was the best birthday. Having both her brothers with her. They stayed up watching crummy infomercials and making fun of them until Elle fell asleep.

Elle found herself back in the dark lake scene. Surrounding her were flowers. The very same flowers she had received from an unknown sender. Again? She was getting to be as bad as Sam with these dreams and she knew how Dean felt about those dreams. She tightly closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself back in the motel room with her brothers—but when she opened her eyes, she was still beside the lake, the moonlight shining on the flowers.

"If memory serves correctly, your mother tended a garden of these," the voice spoke softly.

"You really don't know how to take a hint, do you?" Elle retorted with an eye roll. "Leave me alone."

"I've come to return what is rightfully yours," the voice said.

She felt a hand touch her temple. The touch made shivers go down her spine and her heart beat a little faster when suddenly she was flooded with everything Dean had described to her earlier. They seemed almost like memories. When the hand lifted from her head, part of her wished to be touched like that again, it had felt right; but common-sense took over her. She turned around not to find anyone there. Was this all happening in her head? Was she going crazy? But that wasn't the question she asked.

"Why?" Elle hissed.

"I thought it best for you to remain innocent a little while longer. From what I've seen, childhood was something one should enjoy and I longed for you to have that. Until next time, Campbell."

Elle awoke gasping for air. She looked around to make sure that her brothers hadn't witnessed the scene—but thankfully, they were both asleep. She remembered everything that had happened. Including the old memories that had suddenly came flooding back to her. What kind of thing can alter reality like that? Take away memories? But if it took that away, what else had it taken away from her? What if it decided to take Sam and Dean away from her because she told them? She couldn't take that risk. She was going to have to discretely see if Bobby had figured anything out—because quite frankly, she was at a loss and the frequency of these interactions was a bit terrifying. She cuddled back-up with her pillow and prayed that her dreams weren't haunted again before allowing sleep to take over her once more.

Somewhere, in a dark room, a calloused hand grazed against an old picture of a handprint turkey family. It lingered on the pinky finger named Elle and a single tear drop slipped onto the paper before it was folded back-up again and disappeared into the darkness. There was work to be done.


	20. Provenance

An exhausted Elle Winchester sat a high bar table swinging her legs since she couldn't touch the ground and slowly stirring the drink in front of her: a Coke with grenadine—or in simple terms, a cherry coke. Sam and Dean really wouldn't let her have anything stronger since the whole llama bitch thing…not that she had really tried anyway. Elle's eyes wandered over to Dean who was once again flirting with a woman. This was like the third girl of the night who had approached him. She watched as Dean gave them his charming smile and the head nod. She also saw how the girls seemed to stick their chests toward him. Elle took another sip of her cherry coke before he rolled her eyes and looked at Sam.

"You think he could at least go for someone a little less desperate," Elle commented.

"It's not as easy as it looks," Sam added.

"Oh really? 'It ain't easy for a playa' kinda of thing? Fine, then show me."

"I—uh—I don't think…"

"Sorry," Elle groaned as she face-palmed her forehead. "I'm such an idiot."

"You're not an idiot…it's just that…"

"You're not ready yet. I get it. I do. Even if my unfiltered self seems to think otherwise."

"I just haven't let myself really think about it, you know? I just don't wanna disrespect Jess's memory or anything."

"Sam, from the very little I know of Jess, I think she'd want you to be happy and if that means moving on, then so be it. If not, then that's fine too. As long as you're happy…and with your favorite little sister in the world."

"You're my only little sister."

"Don't demean my importance to you."

"Yeah, alright."

"Speaking of me. I might not like you finding someone, but when has that ever stopped either of you before?"

"Thanks."

"Do you think I'm decent looking?" Elle asked innocently.

"I—I guess, why?" Sam responded as he choked on his drink.

"There's only one way to get to the bottom of this—I'm just gonna have to try it for myself."

"Oh god."

"Hey! A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do and I gotta get more numbers than Dean can."

"It's not a competition, Elle."

"Sure it is. Game on, buddy."

Elle hopped off the stool, unbuttoned a few buttons of her flannel shirt, and ran her fingers through her hair to fluff it a bit. She gave her brother her best seductive smile—which was quite awkward to begin with. Sam shook his head as Elle looked around the bar for someone easy to prey upon. She was a guy leaning heavily against the bar as he sat alone. He could use a pretty girl to cheer him up. She walked over to the man, swaying her hips more than necessary. When she got close to him she leaned against the bar on one elbow and winked. The man looked at her for a moment before looking away. She cleared her throat to gain his attention again.

"Uh—hey—cutie," Elle said awkwardly as she twirled her hair through her fingers. "How you doin'?"

"My wife just left me," the man grunted as he dropped his wedding ring from his hands.

"Oh my god," Elle groaned as she wrapped herself tighter in her shirt. "I—um—I'm so so sorry. Really."

"Like you care. You're just another slut looking to score. Just like her."

"Excuse me? First of all, I'm not a slut. Second of all, that term is degrading to all women and I really hope you never used it on your now ex-wife because otherwise then she should have left your sorry ass a long time ago. Thirdly…thirdly…is that even a word? Anyway, I wasn't looking to score in the way you think. I have a little more self-respect than that. Unlike you, obviously. I'd say screw you but I don't want to leave you with the impression that the thought ever even crossed my mind."

Elle twirled around on her foot with a disgruntled look on her face, leaving the man with a look of shock on his. This was definitely going to be harder than she first thought it was going to be, but she was too stubborn to back-down now. No sir, she was going to finish what she started even if it killed her. She was much like her father in that sense. Trying to shake off the negative reaction from the last guy, Elle avoided Sam's smirking face. But for some reason, her face seemed drawn to her idiot brother. Look beyond what you see, Elle told herself. Beyond Sam's shoulder looked to be a guy about Dean's age and his friend had just left him to go play a game of pool. She watched the guy for a moment, making sure that there wasn't a ring on his finger, no girl seemed to approach him, and he looked rather shy. Perfect. He should eat up the attention. Still a little peeved from the last guy, Elle buttoned her shirt up a little bit, but still left a bit of skin showing before she walked over to the guy. She hopped up on the bar stool across from the guy and smiled.

"Hey," Elle said with a wink.

"Uh—hey," the guy responded nervously. "Me—you—you're talking to me?"

"No, the invisible guy behind you."

The guy turned around and looked who was behind him before he got her joke.

"Oh," was all he said flatly before he downed the rest of his drink.

"You wouldn't want to buy a girl a drink, would you?" Elle attempted to flirt, quite awkwardly. The words seemed right when put into a sentence, but the way they came off Elle's tongue made them awkward.

"Are—are you one of those underage girls working for the cops set-ups?"

"Really? Really? How old do I look to you?"

"I don't know—sixteen. I just don't wanna get caught for anything."

"I'm twenty-one…no wait, twenty-two. Yeah, twenty-two is right."

The guy eyed her suspiciously, not buying her age. Elle giggled nervously, which probably gave even more of an impression that she was lying. She was terrible at this—she could lie easily when it came to cases, but this…well, this was something she wasn't suited for. Elle looked to the guy again, trying to calm her insides that were screaming to bail.

"So, about that drink?" Elle asked.

"I—uh—my buddy needs me."

"Can I at least get your number?"

"I—uh—"

"Please?" Elle begged flashing him her smile.

"Fine."

The guy took one of the bar napkins and appeared to think for a moment before he scrawled something on it and handed it to Elle. She thanked him with an awkwardly seductive smile as he seemed to quickly make his way over to his friend. She slipped the napkin into her pocket before she went on her way to find more guys. She still couldn't seem to get the hang of this whole seductive flirting thing. She was turned down two other times and the one guy that actually was interested in her was coming on way too strong. It took everything she had in her to not punch the idiot—let alone pleasantly ask him for his phone number. By the time she got back to Sam, he was laughing at her…not with her. She collapsed onto her chair.

"How'd it go?" Sam questioned.

"This is exhausting," Elle groaned. "I don't know how those other girls do it."

"Because those other girls aren't you," Dean chuckled as he rejoined his siblings. "And you care too much about what people think."

"This is an A and B conversation so C your way out," Elle retorted.

"I haven't heard anyone say that since third grade. So I'll be going out for recess now—don't wait up," Dean said. "Sammy, last chance if you want in."

"I'm good thanks," Sam responded.

"You find someone for him, but not me?" Elle retorted.

"Come talk to me when you're forty," Dean said. "And I'll think about it. Until then…hello ladies, miss me?"

Dean walked away with a certain swagger in his step. Sam and Elle watched as Dean approached the girls, claiming to be some sort of talent scout or something. The thought made Elle roll her eyes. Girls were so gullible when it came to her brother.

"How many did you get?" Sam questioned.

"I got one," Elle groaned as pulled the napkin out of her pocket and she rested her head on the table.

"No, you didn't," Sam chuckled.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Did you look at the number?'

"No. It's not like I'm actually gonna use it."

"867-5309," Sam sang quietly as he flipped the napkin toward Elle.

"Damnit. Don't you dare tell Dean!"

Sam hummed the tune almost in her face with a smirk on his face.

"Guys are jerks!" Elle groaned.

"On that note, this jerk will walk you back to the motel," Sam said.

"You've now been demoted to 3/4 jerk. Congratulations."

"Your math doesn't really make sense."

"Don't question it. Just go with it. Or I can bump you back up to full-out jerk."

"Let me go pay for our drinks."

"Leave it for the big Hollywood producer and/or talent scout and/or whoever the hell he's pretending to be."

"Then we might as well get another one."

Elle grinned at Sam's suggestion. They each ordered another expensive drink and gave it to a random stranger before they left for the motel. When they got to the motel, Elle immediately flung herself onto the bigger bed that Dean had made claim to earlier. He wasn't going to be using it anyway. Sam gently plopped onto his bed before he turned to his sister as she pulled out her sketchbook and pencil from her bag.

"How are you doing?" Sam asked gently.

"You're with me almost 24/7, I think you already know how I'm doing," Elle responded not even looking up.

"But I know you. You keep things bottled-up. You can talk to me, you know."

"Yeah, I know—but I don't really have anything I desperately need to talk about."

"Do you still have thoughts about getting out?"

Elle stopped drawing and dropped her pencil. She looked up at Sam who was propped-up on his elbow on his side looking at her.

"I think every hunter has thoughts about it as some time or another," Elle said choosing her words very carefully.

"Have your feelings changed since the last time we had this conversation?" Sam questioned.

"They've certainly become more complicated."

"But when this is over—when Dad nails the son-of-a-bitch. Do you want to come with me?"

"Where?"

"Anywhere—I mean probably school again. I could start law school. You could start some undergrad stuff. You know, be normal."

"You'd really want your little sister tagging around with you? I don't think so."

"That's not the question. I asked if you wanted out."

"I'm twenty-two years old and we've been after this thing my entire life. What I've learned from that is that I shouldn't get my hopes up."

"You're going to have to make a choice sooner or later."

"Well right now, the only choice I'm making is the one to go to bed. Good night, Sam."

Elle dropped her sketchbook to the floor before she rolled over on the bed so that her back was facing Sam. Sam gently said her name, but she ignored him. She knew that wasn't the most mature move on her part, but it was all she could come up with to get the point across. Despite how badly she wanted to fall asleep, she couldn't because her thoughts were turning inside her head. What did she want when this was all over? She had never really imagined that it ever would be over. She had always figured that she'd probably die before getting out—something she had accepted when Sam was at Stanford. The light flickered off and Elle was still awake when Sam's snores began to fill the room.

The next morning, both Sam and Elle acted as if the conversation the night before never happened. Instead, they bought donuts and milk which they snuck into the library so they could do some research on the Telesca family. Mark and Ann Telesca were found in their home a few days go with their throats slit; but the strangest part was that there were no prints, no weapons, nothing. Dean at first had been skeptic about the case, Sam was convinced Dad led them there, and Elle refused to get off the fence and commit until she had proof either way. According to John Winchester's journal, three murders with similar M.O.'s to the Telesca's had already happened in upstate New York: 1912, 1945, and 1970. Because so much time had passed no one had noticed a connection, except for John Winchester and now Sam. Elle wiped a few donut crumbs off their research. They had come up with nothing. Elle was beginning to think Dean was right that this was just some garden variety murder, but Sam insisted that they check the house to make sure.

The annoying part of this all was that they had to walk everywhere because Dean still had the car. Elle pulled her phone and sent Dean a text to meet them at the Telesca's house, although her text might have included a few choice words thrown in here and there. She just hoped that he didn't bring his date with him to the scene. When they arrived at the Telesca's house, Sam and Elle snuck under the police tape before going inside. Sam pulled out the EMF meter while Elle searched for any objects that might seem out of the ordinary for normal people. The only problem was that there were no belongings from the home's former occupants. Elle searched everywhere for a shred of evidence that they had lived there, but she came up empty handed. Sam didn't found any traces of EMF either. Elle was surprised to see that the Impala was actually parked outside the house when they were leaving. For a moment Elle pondered what that meant—it probably just meant that Dean had met a girl he couldn't wait to be rid of. Sam and Elle found Dean sprawled out across the front seat of the car, sleeping with his sunglasses on.

"This is too perfect," Sam chuckled.

"He would do it to us if the situation were reversed," Elle added.

"True."

"Besides, he was nice enough to set this up for us."

Sam chuckled as he walked around to the driver's side of the car while Elle quietly pulled out a full bottle of water from the backseat. Elle unscrewed the cap before she looked to Sam. She counted down with her fingers: three…two…one. Sam then slammed his hand on the horn causing Dean to shoot straight-up and then Elle attempted to pour the entire bottle of water over Dean. She had about 3/4 of the bottle poured when Dean knocked the bottle out of her hands on onto the street.

"This so isn't cool," Dean grumbled as he pulled his sunglasses off to wipe the water off his face, squinting in the bright light. "I hate you two."

"Feeling's mutual," Elle retorted. "And I'm going to talk to the neighbors while Sam fills you in."

Elle quickly threw her hair up into a ponytail as she walked toward the house on the right as she came up with her cover story. Why hadn't she done this last night? It was so much easier to be someone you weren't really. Elle rolled her eyes before she rang the doorbell. A middle-aged woman answered the door and looked slightly disgusted to see Elle standing there. Elle took a deep breath and gave the woman a small smile.

"Can I help you?"

"Hi, I'm Elle—my aunt and uncle…were, uh…" Elle said before she began to fan at her eyes to make the tears start to flow. "They—uh—they lived, next door. I'm so sorry about this…I thought I'd be able to—ugh."

"Mark and Ann were your uncle and aunt?" The woman asked, clearly growing more sympathetic.

"Yeah. It just sucks to see them gone like this. You know I was just over here like a month ago and…"

"I remember you. You drove that white Sonata."

Elle simply nodded her head.

"I'm so sorry about your loss," the woman sighed.

"Thank you, but the—uh—the reason I'm here is because my mother wanted me to check and see what happened to their belongings."

"That auction house came and packed the place up. Unless it was someone stealing your family's belongings."

"Oh, I guess they just did it earlier than we expected. You wouldn't happen to have the name of the place, so I can swing over there before going back to my mother. She's such a mess she probably couldn't even remember the name of the place."

"Sure thing, sweetheart. Why don't you come inside and you can help yourself to a freshly baked brownie."

"I wouldn't want to impose."

"No, I insist. Anything for someone related to Mark and Ann."

"I'm sure they'd be very grateful for the kindness you've shown to me."

The woman nodded and Elle followed her inside. When she left, the woman had given her an entire plate of brownies and the address of the auction house. Wonderfully moist and chocolatey brownies with chocolate chunks inside. They seemed to just melt in one's mouth. There was no way in hell that she was going to be sharing with her brothers…unless they were extremely nice to her. Okay, that was probably a lie. She'd probably give Sam one in order to make Dean have to work for one, but in theory they were all hers. Elle was on her second brownie by the time she got back to the Impala to find her brothers waiting for her.

"I made out like a bandit," Elle said with her mouth full as she handed the address over to Sam before she hugged the plate of brownies. "Precious. My precious."

"Gimme one, Frodo," Dean said.

"Mine."

Elle then climbed in the backseat with her brownies and watched Sam and Dean get in the car. She picked up a brownie and moved to hand it to Dean—when in reality she was just egging her oldest brother on. She dropped it into Sam's hands and he immediately licked the brownie so that Dean wouldn't take it. With a scowl on his face, Dean reached in the backseat to snatch a brownie, but Elle moved the plate out of his reach.

"Don't make me do it," Dean threatened.

"Sam, help me!" Elle called.

'You got yourself into this one, Elle-Belle," Sam chuckled.

"Dean…"

"You have to the count of three: one…two…three," Dean said.

Elle still hadn't given Dean his brownie so his hand moved to her side and he began to tickle her—knowing how extremely ticklish she was. She screamed and flailed about until Dean made her promise to give him a brownie to stop. Sam laughed and ate his brownie as Elle caught her breath. She then picked up a brownie and tossed it at her oldest brother, causing it to smack him square on the face, leaving melted chocolate on his face before it fell to the seat. Dean shook his head and wiped the chocolate from his face with his finger before he licked his finger and then picked up the brownie and ate it.

"You disgust me," Elle said with a roll of her eyes.

"Right back at ya," Dean said with his mouth full of brownie.

The Winchesters eventually made it the auction house, although once inside, they found they were a bit underdressed. People were in formal attire, suit and ties, dresses, the whole nine. Elle tried to hide the fact of how embarrassed she was to be in Converse shoes, jeans, and yet another plaid shirt with a t-shirt underneath. She tried to hide herself between her over-grown brothers. This was one of those rare moments she was glad she was considered smaller than average. Dean however made himself right at home. Even going so far as sneaking some of the finger food from the trays, despite Elle's chiding him to leave it alone. Dean made a comment about the place being a garage sale for Wasps when a finely dressed man approached them.

"Can I help you lady and gentlemen?

"Yeah, I'd like some champagne, please," Dean stated in a posh accent worthy enough to make Elle cringe.

"He's not a waiter," Sam hissed which made Dean raise an eyebrow and shrug before Sam thrust his hand forward. "I'm Sam—Sam Connors." The man refused to shake Sam's hand, so Sam continued talking. "That's my brother Dean and this is my sister Elle. My siblings and I are art dealers with Connors Limited."

Elle cringed for a second. This was her second cover story in the past hour. Hopefully she wasn't found out.

"Well, I'm Daniel Blake and this is my auction house and this is a private showing. One I don't remember seeing your names on the guest list."

"We're there, Chuckles," Dean said before taking another bite. "You just need to take another look. Oh finally!"

A tray of drinks moved past them and Dean snaked one. He sniffed the glass before he raised his eyebrow toward Mr. Blake and walked away. Sam walked away behind Dean leaving Elle standing there with the man who was obviously judging her. She had to say something before she snuck off with her brothers. She couldn't just leave the man without saying something. Her first thought was to apologize for her brothers, so that was exactly what she did.

"I'm sorry, about them," Elle apologized to Mr. Blake. "They were raised in a barn with no sense of decorum."

"Clearly," Mr. Blake said stiffly.

"I'm—uh—going to go wrangle those two in."

Elle fanned her flaming face as she walked away from the man. By the time she reached her brothers, they had already run in to another hoity-toity, this one a woman. The woman had her dark hair pulled back into some classy updo and she wore a curve-hugging black dress. From a distance, she could tell that both of her brothers were checking the girl out and Sam was talking to her—which made Elle's face scowl a bit. She knew that it shouldn't matter, but she didn't like it when her brothers found someone else beside her. Every time she ended up getting jealous for no reason at all—because those girls never seemed to stay. Although, it would've been a pretty close call had Jess not died. Sam had just said last night that he wasn't sure he was ready…and she of all people had given him her blessing. It wasn't really a blessing though, it was just something that she knew Sam needed to hear. She really didn't like the idea. Sam turned toward Elle and called her name, motioning for her to come toward him. Elle slunk toward her brothers as the woman waved at Elle.

"Elle, this is Sarah Blake," Sam introduced.

"Hi," Elle said curtly.

"Play nice," Dean whispered in her ear before she swatted him away.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Elle," Sarah said extending her hand which Elle reluctantly accepted. "Elle, is that short for something? Eleanor?"

"Campbell, actually," Elle responded somewhat coldly with a confused look from Sarah.

"Campbell was our mother's maiden name," Sam intervened. "But we just call her Elle."

"Both are very pretty. I'm just plain Sarah," Sarah stated. "So is there something I can actually help the three of you with?"

"Actually, yeah. What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?"

"The whole thing's pretty grisly if you ask me, selling your things this soon. But Dad's right about one thing, sensationalism brings out the crowds. Even the rich ones."

"Is it possible to see the provenances?"

"Um—su…"

"I'm afraid that there isn't any chance of that," Mr. Blake stated as he interrupted his daughter.

"Dad," Sarah groaned.

"May I ask why not?" Sam questioned.

"You three are not on the guest list and I think it's time for you to leave

"Dad, they're not hurting anybody," Sarah hissed.

"They're bad for business. Now leave."

"Well, we don't have to be told twice," Dean said in a fake posh accent.

"Apparently you do."

"You'll have to forgive him. He ate a lot paint chips as a kid," Elle apologized which made Sarah snicker and Dean roll his eyes. Elle could have sworn she heard Sarah whisper something about Tommy Boy.

"Don't make me call security."

"Okay, it's all right. We don't want any trouble, really," Sam said. "So, we'll be on our way then."

Dean raised his eyebrows at Mr. Blake before he turned and walked away Elle stayed and waited for Sam who exchanged long looks with Sarah before he looked at his little sister with a slight flush to his face and wrapped his arm around her shoulder to walk away. Elle looked over her shoulder to see Sarah watching them before she began arguing with her father. Sam turned back to look at Sarah as well. Damn, the look back. It meant that there was something going on. Dean met them outside at the car before they went to find some sort of cheap motel. The oldest Winchester checked them into the motel while Sam and Elle waited in the car. When he came back, they headed toward the room. Elle was weighed down with the weight of her duffel bag, her shoulder bag, and a bag of snacks she had gotten at the Gas-n-Sip. She fell into step with her oldest brother and Sam followed behind them.

"Grant Wood, Grandma Moses? Those mean anything to you, Elle?" Dean asked.

"No, should they?" Elle questioned.

"Sammy sure seems to think they're important."

"I learned them in an art history course," Sam responded from behind them..

"An art history course?" Elle questioned with a cocked eyebrow as she turned around to look at her brother.

"It was good for meeting girls."

"That's the only reason?"

"What are you implying?"

"Subconsciously, you knew that I liked art. So you took an art class because you missed me."

"If that's what you have to tell yourself," Sam said with a smile.

"I will, because it's the truth and you know it."

"Sometimes I wish I didn't know you two," Dean muttered.

"No, you love us no matter what."

By this point the Winchesters had made it to the room and Dean unlocked the door. Elle fought to be the first one in the room. She practically flew into the room and did a belly-flop onto the bed closest to the door. Elle rolled onto her back and took a good look at the room. There was a do not disturb sign as a silver outline of John Travolta from Saturday Night Fever inside the retro 70s disco fantasy room. Elle wasn't the biggest fan of the 70s—it produced Dean. Okay, so that last part was a joke, but she really didn't understand the draw of the 70s.

"It looks like the 70s threw up in here," Elle groaned.

"It's uh—certainly something else," Sam commented.

"Damnit, they forgot the extra bed," Dean groaned.

"Well, I'm not sharing with either of you," Elle quipped.

"But you're the smallest," Sam said.

"Tough luck."

"Elle, we can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way."

"I'm not giving up my freaking bed. I got here first, it's mine."

"Sammy, you thinking what I'm thinking?" Dean asked.

"I think so," Sam said.

"No! C'mon guy! Don't!" Elle pleaded.

Sam and Dean sat on the bed beside Elle and looked at each other. Elle slowly backed away until they both practically lunged at her and started tickling her. Elle began to scream with giggles and flail all over the place. Eventually, she ended up falling off the bed and onto the floor because she had moved so far. Sam then sprawled out the bed that had been hers and Dean sprawled out on the other bed. Elle narrowed her eyes at her brothers. Twice in one day they had used her ticklishness against her. Not cool.

"I'll sit on you," Elle threatened.

"Go ahead, you weigh like nothing," Dean said with his eyes closed and his arms behind his head.

Elle scowled before she jumped onto her brother's stomach and sat on him with a plop. He groaned at the shock, but he didn't do anything. Elle stood up on the bed and jumped onto him again.

"God, your ass is bony," Dean groaned.

"Give me my bed and I'll stop," Elle retorted.

"Sammy's the one who has your bed."

"That's true."

Elle then stood up and jumped from Dean's bed to the bed that was rightfully hers, but Sam was prepared for her. He had a pillow for a shield which Elle punched causing Sam to laugh before he grabbed her causing her to fall onto the bed. Sam then sat on top of her. She playfully slapped at his back, but he didn't budge. Sometimes, having brothers sucked.

"Get off," Elle groaned.

"What was that providence thing you were asking about?" Dean questioned.

"Prov-e-nance," Sam corrected.

"Is now really the time to correct him when you're crushing my rib cage?" Elle hissed.

"Perfect time actually," Dean said with a smirk before turning back to Sam. "So what is it?"

"It's a certificate of origin, like a biography. You know we can use them to check the history of the pieces, see if any of them have a freaky past," Sam explained.

"I guess that can work. I mean, we're not getting anything out of chuckles, but Sarah on the other hand…"

"Yeah, maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin."

Sam then looked at Elle and started to hum the song from last night. Dean looked at them in slight confusion.

"You ass! I'm tapping out," Elle muttered as she slapped the bed.

Sam got off her and moved to sit on the pillows.

"Air!" Elle gasped.

Dean and Sam shook their heads at their little sister as she stood up and inhaled loudly.

"So what's your plan for Sarah?" Sam asked.

"You," Dean said.

"No, no, no, pick-ups are your thing, Dean."

"It wasn't my butt she was checking out."

"She wasn't checking my butt out," Sam said rolling his eyes.

"Oh c'mon, there was something between the two of you. You both looked back at each other," Elle commented.

"So what, I'm supposed to use her to get information?"

"Sometimes you gotta take one for the team," Dean said.

"It's about time one of you has to," Elle said. "At least she doesn't seem like a perv. I shudder every time I have to think back to Perv 1. Ugh."

"Call her."

"Yeah, Sam, go outside and call her."

Sam saw right through Elle's plan to regain ownership of her bed. He did call Sarah and she agreed to go out on a date with him—but Sam still managed to get the bed back. Elle rolled her eyes before she left the room to go to the office to ask for a rollaway bed. Much to her dismay, the man at the desk said that they were fresh out of rollaway beds which didn't make sense because there was like one other person at the motel beside the Winchesters. Elle rolled her eyes because this meant that she had to bunk with one of her brothers or sleep on the floor. She slowly walked back to the motel room after taking a stop by the vending machine getting some cherry Twizzler bites and a Coke. She got back to the room to find Dean laying on the bed watching T.V. But after one step a wall of smell seemed to hit her.

"Oh god, what's that smell," Elle groaned.

"It's called aftershave," Sam said as he came out of the bathroom with tousled wet hair and a towel wrapped around him.

"First of all, put some clothes on. I don't want to accidentally see your junk. Second of all, you smell like an old man who's wearing too much cologne just met a skunk."

"Jess liked the smell of this stuff."

"Well, at least we know Elle's not attracted to you," Dean chuckled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Elle questioned.

"You know that whole smell and attraction thing."

"Yeah, well, you smell worse than Sam, buddy."

"That hurts right here," Dean said as he pretended to stab himself in the heart.

"Good, it's supposed to."

Elle plopped onto Sam's bed as he came out of the bathroom fully clothed. She was surprised to see Sam all spiffed-up. He was in a buttoned shirt with a blazer and khaki pants. He looked nice, but she didn't even realize that he owned nice clothes that weren't for impersonating FBI agents. Elle pushed herself into a sitting position and motioned for Sam to turn around. He shook his head as he reluctantly did as his sister told him to. Dean clapped for Sam to which Sam responded by whacking Dean with a pillow in the crotch. Elle couldn't help but laugh at Dean's expense as Sam grabbed the keys to the Impala and left the motel room leaving his siblings alone together. About five minutes after Sam left, Elle got up and poked Dean.

"What?" Dean grumbled.

"Aren't we going with him?" Elle asked.

"No. Why would we?"

"Because you and Sam always followed me out my dates."

"That's different. You thought you were being sneaky about 'em. Besides, none of those guys were good enough for you."

"And Sarah's good enough for Sam?"

"It's for a gig."

"C'mon, Dean, it's only fair. Especially after all the hell you two put me through. Like my first date…which I didn't even know was a date. We went to the movies and the guy kept trying to hold my hand. All of sudden your head pops out between the two of us and you ask him for some popcorn." Elle shook her head. "You scared the crap out of the poor guy."

"Good times, good times."

"So can we go?"

"No."

"Then what are we supposed to do?"

"I'm sure you'll figure something out."

"Dean."

"Give me fifteen minutes and we'll go get something to eat."

"Fine."

Elle sighed before sat back down on her bed and pulled out her Gameboy to play some Pokémon. After fifteen minutes, she finished up her battle before she jumped on top of Dean to wake him up. He groaned and pushed his sister to the floor before the two Winchester siblings walked to the Chinese buffet restaurant across the street. Elle wasn't ashamed to load her plate with food. She took some Beef and Broccoli, Honey Sesame Chicken, Sweet and Sour Chicken, Cream Cheese Rangoon, and some fried donut things. When she returned to the table, she found Dean sitting with his plate fuller than hers and a glass of Pepsi on the table for her. Dean shoved some rice in his mouth as Elle sat down. Elle ate her food as she listened to Dean ramble on about something or another. She did a lot of head nodding, pretending to acknowledge what he was saying, but instead she was lost in her own thoughts. She thought of Sam on his date for a little bit, but honestly, her thoughts were stuck on the question he had posed to her the day before. What would she do if it were all over? But ultimately, whether she liked it or not, her thoughts on that always turned to John Winchester. Despite whatever feelings she had toward the man, he did have a grasp on her life. Dean went back up three more times and Elle went up two more times. By the time both Winchesters were stuffed, the hostess had left two fortune cookies on the table. Dean opened his first.

"Everyone agrees you are the best," Dean read. "Hell, yes. Do they know me or do they know me?"

"That's a lie. I think they messed up. That one was supposed to be mine," Elle commented.

"Nope, all for me. It's quite accurate too. What's yours say?" Dean asked.

"Be patient, the Great Wall wasn't built in one day," Elle read after she opened it. "You don't say? What am I even being patient for?"

"The day you aren't such a loser."

"Ha-ha. Funny. I actually think that you mean the day you aren't such a loser. Which proves the fact that our fortunes got mixed up. I want a do-over."

"Fine, but sneak a couple extra while you're at it."

Elle walked to the dessert portion of the buffet and stuffed her pockets with as many fortune cookies that would fit. She came back to Dean at the table and tossed him a fortune cookie. He shook his head when he noticed that her pockets were full of them before he told her to go first. Elle quickly tore into the package and stuffed the fortune cookie in her mouth while she read her fortune.

"You will travel to many places," Elle read with her mouth full. "No shit, Sherlock. These are lame."

"You know they're better if you add…in bed after them," Dean said.

"All right, go on then."

Dean smirked as Elle handed him another fortune cookie. He slowly opened it and began to chuckle before he read it to Elle.

"Your talents will be recognized and suitably rewarded…in bed."

"Oh my god. Why didn't you warn me to cover my ears? I'm leaving."

"Na-uh, you gotta do one first."

Elle rolled her eyes before she opened another fortune cookie. She looked at the writing and shook her head.

"Nope. Not doing it."

"Then I'll do it for you," Dean said as he snatched the paper from Elle. "Accept the next proposition you hear…in bed. Elle-Belle, didn't know you worked like that."

"I hate you."

With her pockets full of fortune cookies, Elle stood up and walked toward the exit while Dean continued to laugh at her. She walked to the motel without her oldest brother. When she got to the motel she piled the extra fortune cookies on the bedside table before she turned the T.V. on to reruns of Touched by an Angel. Dean came in about ten minutes after she did. He immediately noticed the pile of fortune cookies on the table and fought Elle to gain control of the pile. He hoarded them on his bed beside himself and began to open them.

"One for me...you are a bundle of energy, always on the go…in bed," Dean said with a smirk.

"Dean," Elle groaned.

"One for Elle…"

"No," Elle whined.

Dean opened the package and could hardly contain his laughter.

"You have remarkable power which you are not using…in bed."

"Stop it!"

"What, it's true! Not that I'd know about you having any remarkable power in that sense."

"Please stop."

Elle stuck-out her bottom lip and gave him the sad puppy dog eyes which she knew worked like a charm most of the time. He chuckled as he placed the remaining fortune cookies back on the table. Then, he made her change the T.V. channel because he said the thought of angels was a load of crap—so they ended up watching some terrible reality show that neither told the other to change. They watched it until Sam came back and Dean scrambled to get some weapons to make it look like he had been cleaning. Elle tried to find the remote to change the channel, but Sam noticed what was on T.V. before she found it.

"Looks like you two had a productive night," Sam joked.

"Elle was the one watching," Dean commented.

"That's B.S. and you know it," Elle argued.

"Well, my night went a little better," Sam said shaking his head.

"You got some?" Dean asked.

"Some provenances? Yeah."

Sam dropped the papers on Elle's bed and she began to rifle through them.

"Is that all she handed over to you?"

"That and the pleasure of her company."

"Who uses words like that anymore?"

"Guys who aren't assholes, like you," Elle retorted.

"Oh, you asked for it!"

Dean reached for another fortune cookie. Elle practically lunged at him causing the provenances she had been searching through to scatter over her bed and the floor, but she had to stop him.

"I take it back! I take it back!" Elle squealed.

Dean grinned as he set the fortune cookie back down on the table causing Elle to breathe a sigh of relief. She then moved to the floor and began looking at the provenances once again.

"I'm not even going to ask," Sam said. "So I got a copy of the papers."

"So you've said. You didn't have to con her to do any…special favors or anything like that?" Dean questioned.

"Dean, would you get your mind out of the gutter please?"

"His mind's been in the damn gutter all night," Elle groaned holding up one of the fortune cookies that had fallen to the floor during the struggle.

"Maybe when this whole thing's done, we could stick around for a little bit," Dean suggested seriously.

"Why?" Sam asked.

"So you could take her out again. It's obvious that you're into her. Even Elle and I can see that. But let's consult fortune cookie."

"Oh god," Elle groaned.

"Oh great fortune cookie, should Sam stay and get some somethin' somethin' with Sarah?" Dean said before he opened the cookie. "It says…the time is always right to do what is right…in bed."

"It doesn't say that," Sam growled as he swiped the paper from Dean. "Ok…it does…sorta. But no."

"Should we consult another one?"

"Guys, I think have something," Elle said.

"This one says…"

"Dean, I mean it. I think I have something in our area of expertise."

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Look at this one for the portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family painted in 1910."

"Those names look familiar."

"I think they were the names you said were in Dad's journal. Dean can you…"

"Yeah, I got it," Dean said.

Dean grabbed John Winchester's journal out of Elle's shoulder bag. The three Winchesters sat on the floor comparing the names from the provenance to the names in the journal. They were a perfect match. The year the painting was bought matched up with when the family was brutally murdered. All three siblings agreed that the painting had to go. It didn't matter whether it was cursed or haunted—they had to burn it. The Winchesters almost immediately piled into the Impala. Elle had to walk across the parking lot in her socks because she didn't even have time to put her shoes on—that was how quickly they left. Dean practically sped over to the auction house. The place was guarded by high gates, which Dean easily scaled first.

"Why do these things always have to be so tall?" Elle groaned.

"To keep people like you out. Now c'mon," Dean said.

"I got you," Sam said.

Elle climbed onto Sam's back and then up onto his shoulders so that she could almost reach the top of the gate. Then she had to use the little arm strength that she had to pull herself up. For a second she thought about lifting weights to give her some upper body strength for as often as she did this, but Sam told her to hurry up. She swung her legs around to the other side of the gate, but her foot slipped causing her to fall. Thankfully, she quickly caught herself and clung for dear life to the gate for a moment before Dean practically peeled her off. No, she definitely wasn't cut out for this. Maybe she should seriously consider taking Sam up on his offer to do something else once this was all over. Screw family loyalty…she was more worried about self-preservation at this point, but the thought was fleeting as they approached the alarm system. The panel read "alarmed."

"I wonder what alarmed it—get it? Alarmed it?" Elle chuckled to herself.

"That's not even funny," Dean groaned.

"Someday, I will find someone who thinks my jokes are funny."

"Wouldn't count on it."

"There we go—Dean, go ahead," Sam said when the security alarm disarmed.

With gloves on his hands, Dean picked the lock of the building. After two tries, Dean had the door opened and motioned for Elle and Sam to go inside. Elle had her hair pulled back in braids on the car ride over to keep it from shedding onto the floor and leaving evidence. She had pulled out her flashlight and was shining it around the room to find the painting. She stopped every now and then to admire other paintings, but Sam kept her on track—pushing her forward. While she hadn't been the one to take an art history class, like Sam, she was still intrigued by other people's art. She would love nothing more than to spend a few hours examining the different pieces, but now wasn't the time. Dean was the one who found the painting upstairs, so Sam and Elle followed after. Dean pulled a switchblade out of his pocket and cut the painting out from its frame before handing it over to Elle who rolled the thing up. The whole job inside took no more than a few minutes. The next step was to find an old abandoned area to burn the sucker.

They drove to the edge of town and found an old dirt road. Elle tossed the thing out to door and onto the ground before Dean kicked it a little further away from the car. Sam had gotten out of the car and steadied a flashlight on the painting so that Dean could toss a book of matches on it. Dean made a comment about doing the art world a favor before the thing went up in flames. As Sam and Dean stood outside watching the thing burn, Elle watched from inside the car. She needed to get Sam's conversation out of her head. There wasn't really a point to figuring out what would happen after—because like she told him, it would never be over. By the time they got to the motel, Elle collapsed on the bed without changing into pajamas, not even caring that she ended up having to share the bed with Sam, who hogged the covers, but two could play that game. In the morning, Elle proved to be the victor of the blankets as she woke up practically buried in them to Dean shaking her awake.

"This isn't funny, Elle, hand it over," Dean grumbled.

"What exactly isn't funny?" Elle groaned.

"You took my wallet for the crap I was giving you last night. Now hand it over."

"I don't have it. The thought never even crossed my mind to take your wallet."

"Are you messing with me right now? Because if you don't have it that means that I dropped it in the warehouse last night."

"You're kidding, right?" Sam asked.

"Elle?"

"I don't have it. Swear to God," Elle said holding her hands up in defense.

"Damnit. It's got my prints, my ID, well my fake ID anyway. We gotta get it before someone else finds it. Come on."

Elle quickly got out of bed and changed her clothes before she pulled her braids out of her hair, leaving it fall down her back in waves. She quickly examined her appearance in the mirror. She looked tired…that much was obvious, but they had to find Dean's wallet. The auction house was open when they got there and the three Winchesters retraced their steps, but it was proving to be useless. It could be almost anywhere. Elle retraced her own steps, trying to remember where she had seen Dean when she had been at each painting. Sam was obviously angry and so was Elle. Dean was the oldest and he was supposed to be the most responsible.

"How do you lose your wallet?" Sam hissed.

"It's not like I did it on purpose," Dean hissed back.

"No, but you're always getting on my ass about being responsible and you go and do something like this," Elle argued. "Not cool."

Dean groaned as he threw his hands up in the air in frustration and moved to keep looking for his wallet. Elle moved to look by some tables. She even picked up a vase to look underneath it. She was still on the sleepy side. Sam walked up behind her and almost scared the crap out of her.

"You didn't have to be so mean to him," Sam whispered. "Accidents do happen."

"Says the boy who yelled at him first," Elle retorted. "Besides, I'm not that pissed. I'm just letting him think I am after all teasing last night. He deserves to squirm a little."

"Hey, guys," a voice said cheerfully behind them.

Sam jumped at the sound of Sarah's voice and Elle scowled for a moment before they both turned around to see a smiling Sarah. She was dressed in a simple black turtleneck sweater and jeans. Sam eyes lingered on Sarah's figure a little longer than normal which caused Elle to roll her eyes.

"Sarah! Hey!" Sam said his voice going way higher than normal.

"Well, I mean you're not technically a guy, Elle, but still 'hey.'"

"Hey," Elle said unimpressed after Sam nudged her.

"What are you doing here?"

"Sam's here to stare at you."

"Elle," Sam hissed. "She's joking. What she meant to say was—uh—we're leaving town and, you know, we came to say goodbye."

"What are you talking about, Sammy," Dean said as he came over and slapped Sam on the shoulder. "We're sticking around for at least a day or two."

"Oh goodie," Elle said sarcastically.

Dean smirked at Elle as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket. So, he found it. Thank goodness, but Sam was completely oblivious to the fact because he was busy staring at Sarah's smiling face.

"Oh, Sam, by the way, I'm gonna go ahead and give you the $20 that I owe you. So, there you go," Dean said holding up the money toward Sam, but Elle snatched it.

"And I'm going to take it because he owes me $20," Elle said as she pocketed the money.

"Well, we're just gonna leave you two crazy kids alone, aren't we, Elle?"

"We are?"

"We are…we have that thing."

"What thing?"

"You know the thing."

"No, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Then I'll remind you over here."

Elle rolled her eyes as Dean wrapped his arm around her shoulder and led her toward one of the paintings. They slowly meandered through the paintings.

"What was that for?" Elle asked.

"You know what that was for," Dean said. "He doesn't need you throwing off his groove."

"The groove…beware the groove..."

Dean cocked an eyebrow at his sister.

"Disney's 'The Emperor's New Groove'," Elle commented. "It came out like six years ago."

"Never saw it," Dean said.

"Yes, you did. You and Sam followed me to it with boy-whose-name-I-no-longer-remember."

"Must not've been too memorable and I don't know what you're talking about. You must be making things up."

Elle shook her head at her brother. They meandered through the warehouse. Dean even humored Elle when she stopped to examine a painting here or there. Granted, he stood there looking rather bored, but he didn't voice his boredom. They eventually made their way back to the Impala and sat on the trunk as they waited for Sam. When they finally caught sight of him, he was hurtling toward them in a sprint.

"This can't be good," Dean commented.

"See, I shoulda been there," Elle retorted.

Dean pushed Elle, causing her to slide off the car and onto the ground. Thankfully, she landed on her feet as Sam approached them.

"It's back," Sam said breathlessly.

"What is? Your groove?" Elle questioned sarcastically.

"No, the painting…the Merchant painting."

"What?" Dean and Elle questioned simultaneously.

"I don't get it. We burned the damn thing."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Dean groaned. "All right, so, we just need to figure out another way to get rid of it. Either of you have any ideas?"

"In almost all the lore about haunted paintings, it's always the painting's subject that haunts 'em."

"Well, there's more than one subject in case you've forgotten," Elle commented.

"So basically, we need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family and that creepy-ass painting," Dean groaned. "What were their names again?"

"I'll be right back," Elle said.

"Where are you going?" Dean questioned.

"I have to pee. You can follow me if you like—the more the merrier."

"Hurry up."

Elle nodded her head and walked back toward the auction house. She was glad when she spotted Sarah heading toward the women's restroom. Elle followed the girl inside and pushed herself up onto the counter for the sink while Sarah used the bathroom. When Sarah exited the stall, she nearly screamed at the sight of seeing Elle sitting there waiting for her.

"Sarah," Elle stated.

"Elle! You gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry?" Elle responded in more of a question. "I need to talk to you."

"Um—ok. What'd you need?"

"You seem like a really nice person and everything…"

"Thanks?"

"But here's the thing, he likes you. I know it. You know it. But whether or not he admits it, that's another story," Elle stated.

"I—um—ok?" Sarah responded.

"He's been through a lot this past year. Meaning that if you hurt him in any way shape or form, I will kick your ass and I know how to bury a body without leaving evidence."

"Good to know."

"Oh! And don't you tell him we ever had this conversation or…"

"You'll kick my ass, I get it."

"Not what I was going to say, but glad you get the point."

"Yeah."

"Lovely chat. Have a nice day."

Just as soon as she had come, Elle jumped off the counter and briskly walked away back toward the car and her brothers.

"What the hell just happened?" Sarah muttered.

The Winchesters had to ask around to find the best place to find local history. The place ended up being a second-hand book shop. Elle was sorely tempted to take a Harry Potter book and sit in a corner and reread it while her brothers did the work, but she refrained. Instead, she stayed with Sam as the man behind the counter lugged out a huge book with newspaper clippings. The man immediately opened the book to find a newspaper from 1912. Elle squinted to get a closer look at the lead story: New Titanic Sinks, 1304 People Go To Watery Graves: Only 866 saved from 2,170 Aboard Liner Which Collides With Iceberg. Disaster Proves to be the Greatest in Marine History. Elle looked at the article in confusion before she looked to the man.

"What's the Titanic got to do with anything?" Elle asked.

"Not that," the man said. "This."

The title of the article was "Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," Dean commented.

"That wasn't very nice," Elle added.

"You think?"

"So the whole family was killed?" Sam questioned.

"Yeah, it seems like this Isaiah guy, he slit his kids' throats, then his wife, then himself. Now he was a barber by trade and used a straight razor," the man said.

"That's disgusting," Elle said holding her hand over her mouth. "Why would he do something like that?"

"Let's look. Ahh…it stays here 'People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament. Controlled his family with an iron fist. Wife, uh, two sons, adopted daughter.' Yeah, yeah, yeah, 'There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave.' Which of course you know in that day and age, um….so instead, old man Isaiah…well, he gave them all a shave."

The man then made awkward motions of slitting his throat complete with sound effects. Dean then joined in the fun until Elle cleared her throat.

"Not funny," Elle commented.

"Anyway, does it say what happened to the bodies?" Dean questioned.

"Just that they were cremated," the man responded.

"Anything else?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, actually I found a picture of the family. It's right here…somewhere," the man said as he rummaged through the book of newspaper clippings. "Right...here it is!"

"Would it be possible to get a copy of this, please?" Sam asked.

The man agreed and made them a copy of the painting which they had burned the night before. Elle wasn't entirely sure why they needed a copy of the painting, but she didn't question it. After the man handed Sam the copy, they headed back to the motel. Although, Sam had already figured out that the father's position in the painting had changed—further incriminating him as the culprit. But that then brought up the question of other things in the painting changing as well. This meant that they needed to see the painting again, but when the topic of Sarah came up Sam got rather uncomfortable. Elle looked to Dean who motioned for her to leave the room for a little bit. As much as she wanted to be there for Sam, maybe Dean could knock some sense into him. So, Elle grabbed her sketchbook and pencils and headed for a bench outside while the boys had some sort of brotherly moment.

Elle flipped through her sketches of the monsters they had faced when she came to her unfinished drawing of the shtriga. She was still quite confused why the thing had been scared of her. Although, now that she had her memory back…she did notice that things started to get bat-shit-crazy when the shtriga got anywhere near her. Both times, the room had begun to shake and there was a loud shrieking noise. It didn't really make sense. She began to shade the creature more in her sketch as she thought about the thing that had taken her memory. Were there other memories that she didn't have? What kind of thing could alter memories? Elle pulled her phone out of her pocket and texted Bobby to give her a call when he had time. Bobby was the only one she could really talk to about this. Besides, she should probably tell him about it since he was trying to help her anyway. She continued to sketch, but frequently looked over at her phone to see if Bobby had texted her back, but Bobby was probably busy with his own gig. Well, that or he was still trying to figure out how to text. The thought made Elle smile, but that was quickly erased as Sam came into view.

"We gotta go, now," Sam said.

"Do you need a chaperone on your date with Sarah?" Elle joked.

"No, this is serious. That painting was sold again."

"Shit."

Elle, Sam, and Dean piled into the Impala once again, headed to some woman named Evelyn's house, hoping that they weren't too late. When the Impala pulled into the driveway, there was another car waiting outside. Sarah had showed up too. Dean made a comment that she shouldn't be here and Sam said that he told her not to come. The girl must be as stubborn as the rest of them. As they got out of the car, Sarah asked what was going on, but the Winchesters ran past her and up the stairs of the porch. Dean banged on the door. There was no way inside unless they picked the lock. So Dean knelt down and began to pick the lock.

"What the hell is going on?" Sarah questioned. "Are you guys burglars?"

"I wish it was that simple," Sam said. "Look, you really should wait in the car. It's for you own good. Elle, keep an eye on her."

Elle nodded her head as she stood in the doorway blocking the entrance from Sarah.

"Let me in," Sarah said.

"You don't want to go in there. It might now be safe," Elle said.

"Like hell I'm sitting out here on my ass and twiddling my thumbs, Evelyn's a friend."

Sarah pushed past Elle and ran into the house behind Sam. Elle muttered obscenities under her breath, knowing that Sam was going to be pissed that she let Sarah get past her. But maybe it was better this way. But when Elle finally met up with the others, it proved not to be a good thing. Sarah had announced her entrance to the older woman. Sarah touched Evelyn's shoulder which tipped the woman's head back, exposing her slashed throat. Sarah began to scream and Sam immediately went to her rescue, wrapping his arms around her and leading her out of the room. Elle managed to take a look at the painting to see that Isaiah's look had changed again. This time, he was watching his daughter.

When Elle got outside, she found Sam and Sarah sitting on the front stairs. Sarah was leaning heavily against Sam crying on his shoulder, gripping him tightly. Sam held onto the girl and didn't say anything. He just held her. Elle didn't want to interrupt them, so she just stayed on the porch and watched them. Elle felt kind of bad for the girl. She must be so confused. Elle leaned against the house with her arms folded across her chest as she listened as Sam and Sarah began to talk.

"What is going on?" Sarah cried.

"It's complicated," Sam responded.

"Explain it to me!"

"You need to call 9-1-1 and my brother, sister, and I need to get the hell away from here."

"Why?"

"When you're done come to this address and I'll explain everything, if you want, I promise."

"Tell me now."

"I can't. I wish I could, but it needs to be like this."

"Sam."

"I'll be seeing you…maybe."

"Sam."

Sam awkwardly pressed a kiss on the top of Sarah's head before he stood up and walked away. Elle hurried after her brother careful to avoid eye contact with Sarah. They went back to the motel and waited for Sarah to take Sam up on his offer. Dean did some research on Sam's laptop while Sam paced the room. The tension was high in the room. She decided to diffuse a bit of it, so she grabbed one of the spare fortune cookies and opened it.

"We all have extraordinary coded within us, waiting to be released…in bed," Elle said.

Dean snickered, but Sam just glared.

"Hey, c'mon, that one was funny," Elle argued.

"I told you not to let her past you," Sam stated rather coldly.

"She pushed past me. I couldn't help it."

"You've fought monsters, demons, ghosts, spirits, and you couldn't handle someone more your own size?"

"Sam, come on, man," Dean said. "She was going to find out sooner or later."

"Yeah, but…"

Sam was interrupted when there was a knock at the door. He ran over to the door and opened it. Sarah stormed right past him.

"Not so easy, is it?" Elle muttered.

"Hey, you all right?" Sam asked Sarah, ignoring Elle's comment.

"Does it look like I'm all right?" Sarah hissed standing at her full height, coming nowhere near to Sam's height. "I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's alone and found her like that."

"Thank you," Sam sighed as he rested his hands on Sarah's shoulders.

"Oh don't be thanking me yet, buddy," Sarah said as she pushed Sam's hands from her shoulders. "I'm about to call them right back if you don't tell me what the hell's going on. Who's killing these people?"

Elle's eyes met Sam's before he looked to Dean and then back to his sister.

"You did promise her," Elle commented.

Sam sighed before he nodded his head.

"What," Sam stated.

"What?" Sarah questioned.

"It's not 'who'. It's 'what' is killing those people."

"You're deranged."

"Sarah, you saw that painting move."

"No…no, I was… I was seeing things. It's impossible."

"Welcome to our world," Dean added.

"You might want to sit," Elle said as she patted the bed beside her.

Elle had a slight change of heart for the girl. Sarah was now in this with them whether she wanted to be or not. It was a decision that had been forced upon her and Elle understood that. She still didn't like Sam crushing on the girl…but people who knew about this world had to stick together. Sarah looked at Elle before she sat down beside Elle. Sarah sat with a rather defensive pose with tears running down her cheeks, but the fact that she was sitting meant that she was at least willing to listen. Sam got down on his haunches and rested his hands on either side of Sarah.

"Sarah, this is going to sound crazy…but we think that that painting is haunted," Sam said rather quietly.

"You're joking. Tell me you're joking," Sarah said looking straight at Sam. "You're not joking. Oh God, the guys I go out with."

"Sarah, if you really think about it, all the pieces seem to come together," Sam said. "Evelyn, the Telesca's…what's the one thing they had in common? The painting. We have solid information that there were others before them too."

"How many others?" Sarah questioned.

"Three others to our knowledge. Wherever this thing goes, people die and we're just trying to stop it. That's the honest to God truth," Sam finally jumped back in.

Sarah seemed to stare straight ahead at Sam for a moment as she brushed away the stray tears on her cheeks.

"Then I guess you'd better show me because I'm coming with you," Sarah said.

"Wait, what? No. Sarah, no, you should just go home," Sam argued.

"You don't get to tell me what I can and can't do."

"This stuff we do can get dangerous and I—uh—we don't want you to get hurt."

"Well you listen to this: I still think you guys are crazy, but what if you're right about this? My dad and I sold that painting which might've gotten people killed. So to hell with getting a little hurt. But don't you dare mistake that for me not being scared, because I am scared as hell right now…but I'm not going to run and hide either. This is my fight now too and I'm stubborn as hell so you're not going to change my mind about this."

With that, Sarah stood up and walked over to the door leaving a dumbfounded Sam watching her go. She stopped at the door and turned around with her hands on her hips.

"So are we going or what?" Sarah questioned.

Sarah flipped her hair and walked out of the motel room. Elle had to admit that she was somewhat impressed by the girl's courage. Sarah certainly had more gumption than she did off the bat. It wasn't hard to miss Dean grinning at Sam.

"Sam," Dean said with a smirk. "Marry that girl."

Elle's heart panged for a moment. Was Sam going to replace her with Sarah? What about Dean? He already seemed quite fond of her. She knew she was probably jumping to conclusions too fast, but she couldn't help it. What if it made Sam no longer want her to go with him when this thing was finished? She knew that she had given up on it all—but gah! Stupid girly emotions. Sarah and the Winchesters drove back to Evelyn's house. Sam and Sarah were on the porch, but Elle refused to get out of the car. Dean poked his head through the back window.

"Elle, come on," Dean said.

"No, you don't need me. You have someone else. Go on without me," Elle said stubbornly.

"What the hell is going on?"

"I said go! I'm going to stay out here. You have Sarah, I'm sure you'll be fine."

"Sarah's not you."

"You don't have to placate me. I've been replaced, I get it. Now go."

"Elle, you're being childish."

Elle stubbornly refused to answer him. He shook his head and followed Sam and Sarah into the house. Elle distracted herself by playing Pokémon until her brothers returned. They wisely said nothing about her absence, although, they did drag her around to three cemeteries. At each cemetery, she refused to get out of the car and help. Sarah seemed to bubbly about everything which made Elle even more pissed off. How could someone be so happy? It didn't make sense. But Elle tried to hold her tongue, but it was obvious that her mood continued to sour each time Sam and Dean got back in the car. By the time her brothers found the mausoleum they had apparently been looking for from some clue in the painting, Elle remained in the car. When her brothers came back, they mentioned something about Isaiah not being buried there and that they had to go find his records. When they pulled up to the office building, Dean literally dragged her out of the car to go in with him, but it beat the alternative of staying outside with Sam and Sarah. As they walked up the steps, Dean stopped and looked at his sister, who wore a scowl on her face as she looked back at the car.

"What's going on inside that head of yours?" Dean asked.

"Nothing you need to know," Elle snipped.

"I'm trying to help you here and you're biting my head off."

"It happens."

"Only when another girl comes in the picture."

Elle sheepishly looked away.

"You think I haven't noticed? Well I have. So explain it to me."

"Explain what?"

"Why do you suddenly become a little bitch whenever there's another girl?"

"Because what if you and Sam choose them over me? Where does that leave me? I don't have any friends, in case you've noticed. I have you and Sam. That's it. I don't even have a father who loves me. What if you like them better than you like me? What if you forget about me? What if I become that sister you just send Christmas cards to and then don't give a shit about the other 364 days of the year? I don't know that I could live with that. I can't be alone. I mean, hell, I always feel like I'm alone as it is…but if I was alone alone. I don't know how long I'd make it honestly. Because there is no one out there who could love me besides you two…and if you two didn't love me anymore…"

Elle turned her back on her brother and shook with sobs.

"You've been building that one up for a while, haven't you?"

"What gave that away?"

"The old Elle sarcasm defense mechanism maneuver. Really? We just had an honest moment and you're going to pull that?"

"I don't know what else you want from me Dean! I just—I just want—I don't know what I want! But I know that this isn't it. I just want to be happy, Dean. I feel like I'm never happy. I don't want to feel sad anymore. I mean there are moments when it seems like I could be happy with you and Sam, but I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop with one of you again."

"I will always be there for you, little sister. Some girl will never come between us. I loved you first and that's the way it's gonna stay and if for some reason I do find some girl who's willing to live this life, she's just going to have to deal with it, because that's the way it's going to be. I can't speak for Sam, but Elle you're so damn important to the two of us and I know that we probably don't say it enough, but you're favorite little sister and we love you. There it is; we love you."

"I'm your only little sister and you're mean to me."

"We're mean because we love you. Got it?"

Elle blinked up at her big brother, her eyes shining with tears.

"I said, got it?"

"Got it," Elle muttered.

"Now, let's get these death certificates before I die of old age. Besides, we have some ass to kick."

The woman in the office was very friendly and gave them the information they needed. It was almost an in and out ordeal. When Dean and Elle headed out toward the car, Elle began inhaling and exhaling rather loudly, trying to calm herself as they saw Sam and Sarah. Dean noticed and tousled his sister's hair.

"Elle, I know Sam and I give you a lot of crap about it, but I'm sure that there's someone out there who will treat you like the goddess you deserve to be treated like and then Sam and I will need to be the ones worrying about being alone. But until that time comes…"

"Lay off the bitchiness?"

"Your words not mine."

Elle nodded her head and stood back for a few moments to finish composing herself before she walked up to Dean, Sam, and Sarah. She needed to be more positive about this and not so jealous. She was twenty-two friggin' years old…she was better than this. Or at least she told herself that she was better than that.

"So what'd you get?" Sam asked.

"Paydirt. Apparently the surviving relatives of the Merchant family were so ashamed of Isaiah that they didn't want him interred with the rest of the family. So, they handed him over to the county, the county gave him a paupers' funeral. Economy style. Turns out he wasn't cremated, he was buried in a pine box," Dean explained.

"So there bones to burn?"

"There are bones to burn."

"Tell me you know where."

"We know where," Elle piped in.

"Good. You okay, Elle-Belle? You've been kinda quiet."

Elle looked over to Dean.

"Just letting my thoughts get to me. I'll be fine though," Elle said.

"Good, because we're going to need you digging up that body," Sam commented.

"You guys are serious about that?" Sarah questioned.

"Salt and burn, it's kinda a family motto or something," Elle said with a slight smile.

Sarah failed to come up with any good response which made Sam and Dean laugh. The Winchesters piled into the Impala and followed Sarah to her place so that she could drop off her car. Elle made room for the girl in the backseat with her. By the time night fell, the Winchesters and Sarah found their way to the graveyard where old man Isaiah Merchant was buried. Trying to push her feelings of jealousy aside, Elle offered to let Sarah have her job of holding the flashlight, but Sarah said they could both shed some light on things. So the girls stood there holding flashlights as the boys dug.

"You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this," Sarah commented.

"Well, this isn't exactly the first grave we've dug. Still think I'm a catch?" Sam said with a grin.

"I do think I've dated worse," Sarah teased. "What about you, Elle?"

"I never really got beyond a first date with anyone because of these two knuckleheads," Elle said.

"Body-snatching, overgrown, overprotective brothers scaring away any prospective second dates? I never woulda guessed."

"That wasn't the worst part though; they would decide to come on my dates with me."

"You guys didn't?"

"Oh, we did," Dean chuckled.

"Jerks," Sarah snickered.

"I know, right?" Elle laughed back.

Elle was beginning to feel somewhat comfortable with Sarah. It didn't mean that she still didn't feel threatened by her, but she was trying to accept things…emphasis on trying or at least making it look like she was trying. This getting over the jealousy thing was definitely going to be a long process. Dean tapped his shovel on something hard, which ended up being the coffin. Sam helped Dean remove the lid and Elle suggested that Sarah look away for a minute, but the girl didn't. Sarah watched as Dean poured salt on the body and Sam poured kerosene. Elle got the honors of tossing the book of matches onto the body as they all stood there and watched it burn.

"I've done more illegal things in half a day with you guys than I have my entire life," Sarah commented.

"I try not to think about it," Elle said.

"So now what?"

"We have one more stop to make," Sam said.

The Winchesters and Sarah got back into the Impala and drove back to Evelyn's house. Sam got out and told Dean to keep the motor running. They were going to finish the painting, just in case. Sarah got out of the car after Sam.

"I'm going with you," Sarah stated.

"You sure?" Sam questioned.

"Yeah, but, Elle, wanna come with us?" Sarah offered through the open door..

Elle looked to Dean who nodded.

"Uh—sure, I guess," Elle sighed.

"Good. I wouldn't want to be left alone with a jerk who goes on dates with his sister," Sarah said.

"Hey, it was Dean's idea," Sam argued.

"Don't go blaming me!" Dean added.

"But you went through with it," Sarah said as she looped her arm through Elle's once Elle stood outside. "It's only fair."

"Because checking on a creepy painting is my definition of a date," Sam muttered.

Elle and Sarah followed Sam into the house as Dean played a love ballad on the radio.

"How are you so cool about all of this?" Elle whispered.

"Because I'm with three professionals…or so I'm told," Sarah said. "And I'm practically shitting myself on the inside."

"Well, you hide it very well."

"You might have to buy me some Depends when this is all said and done."

Sam, Sarah, and Elle walked inside the house and stopped directly in front of the painting. Sarah took notice that the little girl in the painting was gone. Sam noticed that the razor was gone. Elle let go of Sarah's arm and ran toward the front door when it swung shut right before her. She tried to open it, but it was no use. She pounded against the door and started to scream as Sam and Sarah joined her. Elle could somewhat hear Dean on the other side of the door, but she pulled her phone out of her pocket and called him.

"Tell me you slammed the front door as one of your lame jokes," Dean said.

"I wish I did, but it wasn't me," Elle said.

"Tell him that we think it was the little girl," Sam added.

"Sam says that…"

"I heard him. Put me on speaker, Dean said before Elle put him on speakerphone. "Now what little girl are we talking about?"

"The little girl escaped the painting. If I wasn't so busy being jealous and I bitter I should've realized the fact that the dad was looking at her meant something, but no…"

"That makes sense, but it's not your fault, neither Sam nor I noticed…"

"Guys, can we recap later? Right now, we need to get the hell out of here," Sam interrupted.

"I'm trying to pick the lock, Sammy, but it won't budge."

"Well, knock it down. The damn thing is coming."

"Okay genius, let me just grab my battering ram."

"Sam, as much as I hate to say this, we're just going to have to hold it off," Elle said.

"Who are you and what have you done with my little sister?" Sam asked.

"I'm in self-preservation mode. Now, we need to find any salt or iron this place has."

Sam grabbed Sarah's hand as they all ran toward the kitchen. Elle pushed her phone, with Dean still on speakerphone into her sweatshirt pocket. She rummaged through the closet; Sarah went through the drawers, while Sam looked through the cupboards for salt.

"What kind of house doesn't have salt? Low-sodium freaks!" Sam groaned.

"You're one to be judging," Elle scoffed. "Grass boy."

"Now really isn't the time."

"Sarcasm is my defense mechanism to help keep me calm—sue me later."

"Have either of you found anything?"

"No, why do we need salt or iron?" Sarah asked.

"Iron repels evil spirits, but it's gotta be pure."

"Dean?" Elle called to her pocket.

"Still here," Dean said.

"Just promise me you're not going anywhere."

"Not without you and Sammy."

"And Sarah."

"Her too, but it's my job to look after you and Sammy. If anything happens to the two of you…"

"Dean, happy thoughts please."

"Now what?" Sarah asked.

"Stuffed chairs…sometimes the seats…" Sam started.

Elle, Sam, and Sarah ran into the lounge. Sam and Sarah each began tearing apart one of the two chairs in the room. Elle ran toward the fireplace when she spotted tools near it that were usually made of iron, but she was stopped short when the lounge doors slammed shut. Not good. Papers began swirl around the room when suddenly a little girl appeared, dragging her doll along the floor by one foot with a razor in the other hand.

"Sam, Sarah, move," Elle breathed.

Sarah's eyes widened when she saw the little girl. She immediately ran to Sam who stood in between her and the ghost which moved closer to them. Elle finished running toward the fireplace when she picked up the poker and stabbed the little girl with it, causing her to disappear. Elle stood beside Sam holding her iron poker out, ready to take down the little girl.

"Iron?" Sarah asked.

"Looks like it," Elle breathed.

"Sam, Elle, you guys okay?" Dean asked from Elle's pocket.

"For now," Sam said as he grabbed the iron shovel.

"So how do we waste her?"

"I don't know, she was cremated. There's nothing left to burn," Sam said.

"Then how the hell is she still around?"

"There's gotta be some part of her left behind. Baby teeth? I don't know," Elle groaned.

"Guys, wait! We used to handle antique dolls at the auction," Sarah said.

"Sarah, I was never really a doll person, so honestly I don't really care."

"No, you don't understand—back in the day, they used to make dolls in the kids image, I mean everything, they would use the kid's real hair."

"Dean, did you hear that?" Sam asked.

"Not really," Dean shouted from Elle's pocket.

"Sarah said the doll might have the kid's real hair. Human remains, it's got to be the same as bones."

"Well, where's the doll?" Elle asked.

"The Mausoleum!" Sam, Sarah, and Dean said together.

"Dean, you hurry your ass over there or I swear I'm going to kill you."

Elle could hear the Impala gently roaring over the phone.

"She's gonna come back," Elle said.

"And she's gonna be pissed," Sam continued.

"I think she already is," Sarah commented.

The wind picked-up in the house and as Sam raised the iron shovel in his hands, a heavy cupboard moved across the room and smacked right into him, knocking him to the ground and pinning it beneath him. This thing obviously knew who she was messing with—it went straight for the biggest threat. As Sarah ran to help Sam, the ghost knocked her to a wall and pinned her against it.

"You little bitch!" Elle hissed. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size!"

The little girl quickly moved over in front of Elle.

"Ok, so by own size, I wasn't talking about me," Elle said stalling holding the poker out in front of her. "I mean, we're pretty close to the same height and everything but…"

A vase flew off the wall knocked Elle in the head, causing the poker to drop from her hands. She then felt herself fly backward against the wall. She was pinned against the wall beside Sarah. In the corner of her eye, Elle could see Sam struggling to push the cabinet off him. Tears were falling down Sarah's cheeks. Be strong, Elle, she told herself. The little girl moved toward Sarah with the razor, but Elle shouted at her.

"Hey, I'm not done talking to you!"

The little girl turned toward her and shrieked. She had to distract her for a couple more seconds while Sam made his way over to them.

"You wanna know your fortune? Elle hissed. "My brothers are gonna kick your ass and you're gonna die."

Sam poked the thing with the poker that Elle had dropped and the little girl burned up right in front of her. Sarah and Elle slid down the wall and to the floor. When Elle looked up, she saw the little girl reappeared in her painting. Elle breathed a sigh of relief. Dean must've found the doll and burned it. Elle slowly walked over to it as Sam helped Sarah to her feet. She glared at the little girl.

"In bed," Elle spat at the painting. "Just an fyi, it's rude to not let people finish talking to you, bitch."

"I take it you're all right?" Dean asked from her pocket.

"We're alive, but I get my own freaking bed when we get back to the motel."

Elle could hear Dean chuckling over the phone and Sam chuckled as he held Sarah in his arms. She nodded in their direction as Sarah mouthed thank you toward her. She then walked toward the door and was relieved when it opened. Elle then sat down on the porch and let the wind blow against her as she waited for Dean. She looked up at the stars which seemed to twinkle a little brighter when she looked up at them…like they were twinkling just for her and for a moment, despite Sam having a girl, Dean being able to pick up any girl… she didn't feel so alone. There was something about the stars that seemed to comfort her, letting her know that someone was with her.

When Dean finally pulled back up to the house Elle was too tired to move to the car. Dean helped her to the car and put her in the front seat beside him so that Sam and Sarah could have the back. On the drive back to Sarah's, Sarah sat silently leaning against Sam as Sam had his arm wrapped around her. When Dean pulled the car into park, Sarah crawled out of the car and waved goodbye. Sam waved back.

"You missed your moment," Dean commented.

"I think we could all use some sleep before there are any so-called moments," Sam said.

Back at the motel, Elle collapsed on the bed and fell asleep. Sam and Dean both let her sleep as long as she wanted to before she woke up the next morning. She even got to watch/make-fun of some soap operas with her brothers before they headed to the auction house to say goodbye to Sarah and leave town. Sarah was waiting for them outside the auction house watching the painting behind crated up. Dean mentioned that while Elle was sleeping he found out that the Merchant's adopted daughter Melanie had murdered her real family and no one suspected her. So Isaiah had been warning people ever since. Sarah ordered the men to take the painting out back and burn it. They seemed to question her, but she put her foot down. Once the workers were gone, Sarah turned the conversation back to the little girl.

"So, why'd the girl do it?" Sarah asked.

"Killing others? Killing herself? Some people are just born tortured," Sam reasoned. "So when they die, their spirits are just as dark."

"Maybe, maybe not. I really don't care. It's over, so we move on," Dean said.

"So, I guess that means you guys are leaving?" Sarah asked.

Sarah looked between Sam, Elle, and Dean.

"Elle and I are going to wait in the car. See you Sarah," Dean commented.

"I'll be right behind you," Elle said.

Dean nodded his head and walked toward the Impala.

"Sam, can I have one minute with Sarah?" Elle asked.

"Elle," Sam sighed.

"One minute, that's all I'm asking."

Sam rather reluctantly walked away and leaned against the building, just out of earshot.

"I—uh—I wanted to apologize for being a bitch to you. You did nothing to deserve it. I just—I just am overprotective of my brothers."

"You're as overprotective of them as they are of you. I think I'd be more worried if you weren't overprotective. But if you're looking for me to accept your apology, I do and I don't hold anything against you," Sarah said.

"I don't deserve you being so nice to me."

"I think you could use a little nice every now and then, given the little I know about your life. If you'll have me, I'd like to be your friend."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you seem like a pretty awesome friend to have around."

"I don't deserve that either."

"Truth is, none of us do. So, next time you're in New York, let me know and we'll get lunch or something."

"I—I don't know what to say."

"Say, that lunch sounds perfect."

Sarah smiled before she hugged Elle.

"I think someone else is getting antsy," Elle commented.

"You could always get some payback and watch him," Sarah said.

"Honestly, I think he'd be more worried about what Dean and I could be plotting in the car."

Sarah hugged Elle one more time before she walked away. Over her shoulder, Elle watched Sam slowly walk back toward Sarah. She shook her head and walked back to the Impala as the two of them seemed to gravitate toward each other. Their attraction was almost instantaneous. Elle wanted that, but she had yet to feel that strong of a desire toward any person she had met. The only person who made her feel like that, wasn't even a person at all and probably just a figment of her imagination. She looked up to the sky and rolled her eyes before she got into the car.

"How's he doing?" Elle asked.

"It looks like he's about to blow it," Dean commented.

"Maybe he's not ready yet."

"Oh—oh, or maybe he is."

Elle turned around to watch as Sam marched back toward Sarah and kissed her.

"That's my boy!" Dean said smiling.

"Congratulations! Now for the last fortune cookie," Elle said pulling it out of her pocket.

"All right, let's hear it," Dean responded.

"How can you have a beautiful ending without making beautiful mistakes?"

Elle looked at Dean who was looking back at her.

"In bed!" Dean and Elle laughed simultaneously.

Dean and Elle continued to laugh completely carefree and unaware that soon, their lives were about to change forever. Trouble was brewing and the Winchesters were bound to be smack-dab in the middle of it.


	21. Dead Man's Blood

Elle and Sam Winchester sat at a table in a diner, waiting for Dean to show up. He had gone out last night and hadn't come back. This wasn't really much of a surprise, but he had told them that he would meet them for breakfast at 10:00 and it was already quarter to 11. Elle had gotten so bored that she had asked for a kids coloring sheet, but even that managed to bore her. So, Sam reached over and took the paper and folded it into one of those paper footballs. Elle knew how to play this game. She put her thumbs together and raised her pointer fingers for goal posts. Sam kicked the ball with his finger. It went straight through the goal and nailed Elle in square in the nose. Her hands flew to her nose, causing her to knock her glass of ice water all over the table. This made Sam laugh as his first response was to rescue the paper football before he started mopping up the water with the few napkins they had. An embarrassed Elle walked over to the counter with a bright red nose to ask for more napkins. Elle returned with the napkins and after they had a pile of sopping wet napkins on the table, they continued their game. Elle took a shot at Sam's goal, but she missed and the paper went soaring to the ground. Sam picked it up and Elle put her fingers up once again.

"He's late," Elle grumbled.

"What do you want me to do about it, Elle?" Sam questioned as he kicked another perfect goal.

"Nothing. I'm not angry at you. You just think that…"

"That's your problem right there; you're trying to think for Dean by making him think like you. That's completely illogical."

"Thanks for insulting my intelligence."

"I wasn't insulting your intelligence. I was just trying to say that Dean is never going to think like you and he won't know your frustrations unless you tell him."

"Like that's going to happen. I mean, I just don't get it. What's he got that I don't?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Well, aside from the obvious penis. I mean, we share the same genes…oh wait! I have you two scaring off anybody even remotely interested."

"Does it really bother you that much?"

"Sam, I'm twenty-two years old and I've never gone out on a proper date that didn't have at least one of my brothers attempting and succeeding at sabotaging the entire thing. I just—I just want something like you had with Jess or Dean had with Cassie. I want to have my corny chick-flick moment. I just want to feel something for someone else. I feel like I keep waiting and waiting and that I'm going to be waiting my entire life while you and Dean go off and have sex regularly."

"I'm confused is this about sex or love?"

"Both. Always both. I just don't want to feel alone. And yes, I know that I have you and Dean, but it's different and you know it, Sam."

"Elle, it's not all sunshine and rainbows like you're making it out to be. It's a lot of work and can hurt like hell, especially in this life."

"Isn't there a saying goes it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all…or something like that."

"Something like what?" Dean asked sliding into the chair across from Sam.

"Nothing. We were just talking about how much of an ass you are…or something like that."

"No surprises there. Now, did ya'll order me anything?"

"We didn't order anything because we were waiting for you."

"That was stupid, but at least now we can order from the lunch menu."

"Can I stab him?"

"Not in public," Sam mumbled.

Elle looked over to Sam as her fingers tightened around her butter knife. Sam shook his head before he took his sister's knife. She then clutched her fork and directed it toward Dean. Sam took that utensil and the spoon before Elle could get around to threatening Dean with it too. Dean completely missed what was going on because he called the waitress over to bring over the lunch menus. The waitress brought three menus and another glass of water over.

"I'd ask you two what you guys did last night but obviously you didn't have as good of a time as I did," Dean said with a smirk.

"Sammy and I had a good time bowling last night," Elle retorted. "Better than meaningless sex."

"You can't really knock what you know nothing about."

"Fine, Sam, what do you think?"

"Fish. I'm getting the fish, that's what I think."

Dean chuckled and Elle glared at Sam as the waitress came by and took their orders. Sam got the fish, obviously. Dean got his usual, a burger and Elle ordered the kids chicken tenders meal, because it wasn't on the adult menu.

"So how was…bowling?" Dean questioned.

"Elle scored an eleven," Sam chuckled. "With bumpers."

"How the hell does one even do that? Were you drunk?"

"No, it just takes talent," Elle commented sipping water through her straw. "I was trying to get the ball to bounce off the bumpers to hit the pins, but there it always managed to aim it so that after it bounced it would go in the gutter. I did better when we took the bumpers off."

"Really?"

"She didn't break a hundred or anything," Sam said. "I think she got a 78 at one point."

"Did she do her usual…"

"Yeah, she looks like a friggin' ballerina every time she goes up there."

"It's called an arabesque," Elle commented using her little knowledge on the subject from her seventh grade gymnastics unit in P.E.

"Whatever the hell it's called, it doesn't belong in bowling," Dean said.

"He has a point," Sam smiled.

"Well, neither of you two actually taught me how to bowl," Elle remarked.

"That wasn't in the job description," Dean commented. "Besides, it's more entertaining to watch you make a complete ass of yourself."

"Thanks."

"Welcome."

The waitress brought them their food and the Winchesters began to eat. Dean grimaced at the sight of Elle squirting ketchup into her cup of ranch dressing and mixing the two with a fry. Elle went to bring the fry to her mouth and dropped a glob of her mixture on her white t-shirt. She muttered an obscenity before she dipped her napkin in her water glass to try and rub it off, but it was no use. It only seemed to make things worse. Her brothers couldn't help but laugh at her. Today was definitely not her day, she was clumsy as hell and things were only bound to get worse. It wasn't until a little boy noticed the orangish-pinkish stain on her shirt by pointing at her, did she finally relent and go out to the Impala to find an extra t-shirt hopefully stuffed somewhere in the back. Dean told her to get some newspapers and Sam's laptop while she was at it. She rolled her eyes at him, but she was going to do it. She wasn't going to enjoy it, but she would still do it because they needed to find something to do, someone to save.

When Elle got to the car, she looked around to make sure no one was looking before she pulled her dirty t-shirt off, leaving her in her sports bra. She didn't feel quite so bad because women worked out in them, so it shouldn't be too mentally scarring if anyone walked by. Elle dug around on the floor for something else to wear. She didn't find any of her shirts, but she did find a wrinkled orange Everything is bigger in Texas shirt that belonged to Dean and would practically be a dress on her. She sniffed it and the thing passed inspection so she pulled it on and knotted the bottom corner of it to make it fit a little better. She pulled her wavy hair up into a messy bun before she reached in the ash tray in front for some spare change to buy newspapers with and shoved Sam's laptop in her shoulder bag. She bought a couple national newspapers and several local newspapers before she walked back to the diner. Just as she expected that he would, Dean made a comment about her wearing his t-shirt, but she just gave him a fake smile before she dropped the stack of newspapers in front of Dean and slid back into her seat. She pulled the laptop out of her bag and Sam went to grab it, but she slapped his hand.

"I'm the one who grabbed it, I get to use it," Elle said as she slapped at Sam's hands again.

"You don't know my password," Sam responded.

"b-o-n-e-s-1-9-8-3," Elle recited as she typed the letters. "Shazam!"

"How did you…"

"Oh please, it was obvious…and I might've watched you type it a time or two."

"Bones?" Dean questioned.

"It's nothing," Sam said.

"An inside joke," Elle lied and Dean seemed to accept that.

Elle looked at Sam knowingly as he reached over and grabbed one of the newspapers. Elle sighed. Sam had told her about Bones, a dog he "had" when he ran away from Dean when they were in Flagstaff. Apparently, it wasn't information he had trusted to Dean yet. Elle finagled her way onto some wifi before she searched the web for anything interesting while Sam and Dean looked through the newspapers. Every once in a while, they would order something, but it was obvious that their waitress was annoyed with how long they were staying. Dean ordered a piece of pie. A little while later, Elle got some cherry cheesecake. Later, Sam ordered a cup of coffee and yet the Winchesters continued to search for any leads.

"Well guys, not a decent lead in all of Nebraska," Dean said folding one of the papers back up. "What've you guys got?"

"All I got is a woman in Iowa fell 10,000 feet from an airplane and survived," Sam commented.

"Maybe she had some pixie dust," Elle suggested before Dean groaned at her suggestion.

"Hate to say it, but that sound more like that's incredible than, uh Twilight Zone," Dean added.

"I didn't say it was a good lead," Sam responded.

"Elle-Belle?"

"Seeing as I have the world at my fingertips…it looks like there was some guy named Daniel Elkins who was found mauled in his home in Colorado," Elle said. "Now normally it would seem fairly cut and dry, but…"

"Elkins?" I know that name," Dean commented.

"I was just going to say that I swear that name is familiar."

"Doesn't ring a bell to me," Sam said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Elkins…Elkins…Elkins," Dean muttered under his breath.

"Anyway, it sounds like the police aren't really sure what to think. At first they said it was some sort of bear attack, but now they've found some signs of robbery, which doesn't really make sense unless they were stealing crap to trade in for some Charmin."

"Mm-hmmm," Dean said as he paged through John's journal which he had taken out of Elle's shoulder bag.

"Dude, I just so set up a joke right there. You know Charmin—toilet paper—bear commercials…get it?"

"Yeah, I got it, it just wasn't funny."

"It was a little funny," Sam argued. "If it makes you feel any better, Elle, I think Dean was laughing on the inside."

"Guys, check this out."

Dean set their father's journal on the table and turned it so that Elle and Sam could look at it. He pointed to the spot that read D. Elkins 970-555-0158. Elle and Sam looked to each other when they finished reading before they both looked to Dean.

"You think it's the same Elkins?" Sam asked.

"It's a Colorado area code," Dean said.

"Looks like we're going to Colorado," Sam commented.

"I hate Colorado," Elle whined.

"I thought you hated Wisconsin."

"I do hate Wisconsin…along with most states."

"Are there any states you do like?"

"Alaska and Hawaii."

"You do realize you've never been to either of those states," Dean added.

"Exactly. Nothing there for me to hate…yet."

Sam and Dean looked to each other and shook their heads as Sam asked for the check. Elle swore she heard the waitress mutter something about it being about damn time they left. Sam paid the bill and then the Winchesters headed to the Impala. Soon, they were on the highway headed toward Colorado. Driving through Nebraska was rather dull, although it was rather cool seeing the storm come in from the distance. As they neared Manning, Colorado they drove through the mountains which were covered in snow. Elle did have to admit that the scenery was beautiful. If she lived a normal life, she might actually enjoy the snow-capped mountains, the tall pine trees, the fresh air…but she didn't live a normal life. Dean must've been admiring the scenery too because he reached back and backhanded Elle's knee.

"What is there to hate about this?" Dean asked.

"Wendigos," Elle muttered.

"She does have a point there," Sam commented.

"It was one friggin' wendigo," Dean scoffed.

"That almost ate you," Elle argued.

"Did not, I totally had things covered."

"Really? I'm pretty sure your ass would be dead right now if it hadn't been for Sam and me."

"Matter of opinion."

"No, that's the truth."

"Shut your mouth."

"No, you."

"No, you."

"You first."

"You first."

"No, you."

"No, you."

"While you guys were busy being idiots, we missed the turn," Sam said.

"Way to go, Elle," Dean groaned.

"What? How is this my fault? You're the one driving," Elle argued.

"It just is."

Elle rolled her eyes as Dean put the car into reverse and backed it up until they came to the road they needed to go down to get to Elkins place. The man literally lived in the middle of nowhere in the mountains. He was completely isolated…or at least, he was. Dean pulled the Impala up outside the cabin before the Winchesters walked to the door. Sam had to pick the lock before they could go inside. Dean and Elle shined their flashlights inside revealing a clutter-filled mess. To be honest, the place somewhat resembled Bobby's style of decorating… only messier, if that was possible.

"Looks like the maid didn't come today," Dean commented.

"I doubt your house would be any better if you had one," Elle scoffed.

"Sure it would, because I'd have you to clean it for me."

"That's degrading to women."

"I didn't mean it like that," Dean said rolling his eyes. "I meant as my little sister you'd do all the crap for me."

"Sure."

"I like women. I do. I like them a lot."

Elle took one of the journals sitting on Elkins' table and swatted Dean over the head with it. He dropped his flashlight to the floor and groaned as Elle began looking through the journal she was holding. This guy was definitely their kind of person. His journal actually resembled John Winchester's in a sense, only things date back to way before John had gotten into the game: the 60s. When Dean had his flashlight back in his possession, he stood up and opened another one of Elkins' journals up.

"Hey guys, there's salt over here right beside the door," Sam called to his siblings.

"You mean 'protection against demon' salt or 'oops I spilled popcorn' salt," Dean commented.

"It's clearly a ring, Dean," Sam groaned. "You guys think this Elkins guy was a player?"

"For sure," Elle commented.

"Definitely," Dean said at the same time as Elle.

Dean and Elle looked to each other before they walked toward Sam. No one noticed the lurking shadow outside as the Winchesters shined their flashlights at the destruction inside. Elle's flashlight went up toward the ceiling to reveal a hole.

"Guess he did some interior decorating," Elle commented.

"So you're allowed to make fun of the guy's house but I'm not," Dean questioned.

"Basically."

"So, whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one," Sam said bringing them back on track.

"Looks like he put up a hell of a fight too," Dean added.

"Meaning that he probably knew what he was up against," Elle continued. "That or he was just a regular badass."

"Or both," Dean chuckled.

The Winchesters continued to examine the place closely to find a clue about what might have done this. Sam pulled out the EMF meter, but it did nothing. As Dean moved to the kitchen area and snuck something from the guy's fridge, Elle tripped over a chair and fell to the floor with a loud thump. She could hear both her brothers laughing at her. It really was a wonder that someone as clumsy as her survived this long in a hunter's world. Her hands landed in something sticky which she could only assume was blood. With her sticky hands she reached for her flashlight when she spotted some odd markings on the floor.

"You just gonna lay down on the job?" Dean teased as he popped some food into his mouth.

"I found something," Elle groaned.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

Sam came over and stood on his haunches as Elle maneuvered herself to her knees. She was about to wipe her hands on her shirt when Dean made a comment that he would kill her if she ruined his shirt. So instead, she wiped the blood on her jeans before she pointed out the markings to Sam.

"These could be death throes," Sam suggested.

"I guess so," Elle said not really buying it.

"Or maybe old man Elkins was leaving a message. I mean, it's what I would do," Dean suggested.

"There's one way to find out."

Elle reached inside her shoulder bag and pulled out her sketchbook. She tore one of the pieces out placed it on the marks before she began to rub her pencil across the paper to get an outline of the markings. Once the outline appeared on the paper, Elle peeled it from the ground, staining the back with blood. With a disgusted look on her face and only holding the paper with her thumb and index finger Elle held it up toward Dean.

"All right, your turn to be productive," Elle said.

Elle tossed the paper with the rubbings and blood stains at Dean who easily caught it.

"Oh come on, it's obvious," Dean scoffed. "Three letters and six digits. It's the location and combination of a post office box. It's a mail drop."

"Just the way Dad does it," Sam added.

"Why does everything come back to that man?" Elle groaned.

"Get over it, we've got a post office to find," Dean responded.

Sam got up before helping his little sister to her feet. The Winchesters then made their ways back to the Impala to find this supposed post office. It wasn't far, just down the mountain. Thankfully, when they pulled up, no one was there. That was probably the decent thing about a post office box, you could check them whenever you wanted to and no one would be none the wiser. As much as she hated John Winchester, the idea was fairly clever, but maybe he had gotten the idea from the Elkins guy. With a large yawn, Elle followed her brothers inside the building. She was exhausted from a long day of sitting and sleeping in the car. How was that even possible? They easily found the box, but it was well above her head to the point where she couldn't the dial-turn combinations. Dean called her 'shorty' before he tousled her hair and opened the box. He pulled out the letter and stared at it for a second with a puzzled expression on his face.

"What is it?" Elle asked.

Dean showed the envelope to Sam and Elle. It was labeled J.W. Dean tapped the envelope in his hand before he walked back toward the Impala. Sam and Elle followed behind him silently. They didn't say anything until they were back in the car. Sam questioned if J.W. could mean John Winchester. Elle wished, hoped…hell, she'd even pray that J.W. didn't stand for John Winchester. The last thing she wanted was a case that met up to her stupid father. There was a knock at Dean's window which freaked the hell out of all of them. Elle crawled over to the side of the backseat furthest away from the driver's side when she got a glimpse of John Winchester's face smiling because he freaked them out. Wishing, hoping, and praying did absolutely nothing for her and to make matters worse he opened the door to the backseat and crawled in as Dean turned around and grinned at their father. For a moment, there was more silence as John Winchester looked around before he finally spoke.

"It's a mess back here, Campbell," John said.

"It's not all mine," Elle muttered.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Sam asked.

"Are you all right?" Dean quickly added.

"One question at a time, boys," John chuckled. "But yes, I'm ok and I read the news about Daniel. So I got here as fast as I could and then saw you three at his place."

"Why didn't you come in, Dad?" Sam questioned.

"You know why. I had to make sure that you weren't followed…by anyone or anything. Nice job of covering your tracks by the way. I wasn't sure you'd be able to manage it after Campbell's slip-up."

"I didn't do it on purpose," Elle muttered. "I tripped over a chair leg."

"A very deadly opponent," Dean said shaking his head before turning toward their father. "And we learned how to do it from the best."

"Wait, you came all the way out here for this Elkins guy?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, he was—he was a good man. He taught me a hell of a lot about hunting," John answered.

"Well, you never mentioned him to us."

"He and I…we had—we had kind of a falling out and I hadn't seen him in years."

"Surprise, surprise," Elle said with an eye roll.

"What was the fallout over?" Dean asked.

John bit his bottom lip for a moment before he looked over at Elle and then back to Dean.

"Doesn't really matter now, but I should look at that," John said motioning for the envelope which Dean handed over to him. He began to read it aloud, "if you're reading this, I'm already dead…that son-of-a-bitch."

"What is it?" Dean questioned.

"He had it the whole time."

"Dad, had what?" Sam furthered.

"His heart," Elle mumbled.

"Elle, knock-it-off with the pop-shot comments and grow-up," Dean snapped.

Elle glared at Dean, but it was obvious that he didn't care if he pissed her off. It was as if he was taking their father's side. After everything. John wisely said nothing about Elle and moved the conversation back to the letter.

"When you searched the place, did you—did you see a gun? An antique, a Colt revolver, did you see it?" John questioned.

"I think there was one there at some point," Dean responded. "But all I found was an old empty case?"

"Damnit, they have it."

"You mean whatever killed Elkins?"

John got out of the car.

"Thank god," Elle whispered.

Dean shot her a look of disgust before he followed his father out of the car. Elle looked to Sam who shrugged his shoulders and motioned with his head for them to follow Dean and their father. With a roll of her eyes and a loud sigh, she followed Sam out of the car as they tried to catch-up to Dean and their father who were headed toward the truck.

"Dad!" Dean called.

"We gotta pick-up the trail," John explained.

"Wait, you want us to come with you?" Sam asked when he caught up to his father.

"If Elkins was telling the truth, it's gonna take all of us to find this gun."

"The gun? Why?"

"Because it's important, Sam, that's why."

Dean must've known that Elle wanted to say something snarky in return because he looked at her again. To be honest, Elle was pissed at her brother. He was all this talk about how he was on her side but when it came down to it, he chose their father. She would choose him in a heartbeat over their father, but apparently things weren't reciprocated. Elle bit her tongue and glared right back at Dean as John Winchester brought up the topic vampires. He claimed that vampires were what killed Elkins. It was obvious that none of his kids believed him, so John was forced to go over everything he knew about the species. John exhaled before he ran his fingers through his hair, which was what Elle was doing at that exact moment too. She stopped when she noticed him doing the same thing and folded her arms across her chest, leaned against his truck, and listened to his story. While she didn't necessarily want to listen, it was more lore, which maybe could help keep her safe, if vampires did turn out to be real.

"Most of the vampire lore that everyone seems to know is crap. A cross won't repel them, sunlight won't kill them, and neither will a stake to the heart. But the bloodlust, that part is true. They need fresh human blood to survive. They were once people, so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late."

"So now what?" Sam asked.

"I think we should all take naps," Elle yawned. "And pick this up in the morning."

"Elle," Dean groaned.

"She makes a valid point, Dean," John said actually agreeing with Elle. "We'll find a motel and follow the trail after some sleep."

Elle blinked back at her father in shock. He'd just agreed with her. Her father had actually agreed with her about something. That didn't mean that everything was suddenly better and that she forgave him for treating her like shit or anything. Instead, she began to question his motives. Was he trying to find a way to screw her over by agreeing with her? It wouldn't really surprise her. Dean made a comment about how they had heard what John said for them to do. So, the Winchester children walked back to the Impala and Dean followed behind their father to the closest motel.

For apparently getting one of the better rooms and the place, Elle was rather disappointed that the room only came with two beds and a couch. This meant that someone was going to have to share. Under no certain terms was she going to share. So while Sam and Dean were buy laying claim to the beds, Elle plopped herself on the couch. John was the last one to come inside as he lugged in his duffel bag and a pile of old documents which he set on the kitchen table.

"So-uh—you kids hungry?" John asked.

"Starving," Dean groaned.

"Yeah," Sam responded as he sat up from the bed he was laying on.

Elle kept her mouth shut and reached for the remote to the TV. John said nothing more, instead he walked out of the room, but he wasn't long before he came back with a box of cans. He set the box down on the table before he walked over to the kitchen cupboards and began rifling through them. Sam and Dean got off the beds and walked over to the box of non-perishable cans and boxes of food which was probably John Winchester's emergency stash of food.

"There's not much of a selection," John said as he pulled a pot out of the cupboard. "But most places are closed at this time of night."

"Taco Bell is open late," Elle commented. "The Chihuahua on TV says so."

"Dad just brought this in for us. Be a little grateful, will ya?" Dean said, dropping his voice low as he leaned over her. "We're eating here. Have some family time."

"Do we have to?" Elle whined so low so that Dean couldn't hear as he walked away from her.

John opened up another cupboard to find an unopened box of spaghetti noodles.

"What'd ya say?" John asked. "I think there's a can of sauce in there somewhere."

"Sounds good to me," Sam said lightly.

"Just don't let Elle anywhere near the noodles," Dean said. "Remember that one time she was in charge of stirring the noodles, but she forgot about them and they all got stuck to the pot and we just had sauce for supper?"

"I'm assuming Campbell's cooking hasn't improved much; last time I saw her, she burned a bag of popcorn," John stated.

"That wasn't my fault!" Elle snapped from the couch, climbing to her knees to look at her brothers and father. "In case you've forgotten there was a freaking Daeva trying to kill me. I'm sorry I couldn't take the bag out of the microwave while I was being mauled to death."

"No," Dean chuckled ignoring his sister. "Why do you think we eat out so often?"

"I can cook," Elle argued. "I made you a pie once remember? You said it was good."

"That's baking, not cooking," Sam said adding his two cents in. "There's a difference."

Elle rolled her eyes and plopped back down onto the couch while the boys and John talked while they made the food. She tried her best to ignore them until Sam came over to the couch. He picked her legs up and sat down beside her. She kicked at his legs to try and get him to move, but he easily caught hold of her legs which made her whine.

"You crabby?" Sam asked.

"John Winchester is here, of course I'm crabby. I'm beyond crabby," Elle responded.

"No, I hear ya."

"You do? You seem to be eating out of his hand just like Dean."

"Well, I'm not. Believe me, I could snap at him right now, but I'm trying really hard not to."

"Why? Why not let him have it?"

"Sammy, Dad has some beer in the truck, why don't you go get it?" Dean called over interrupting the conversation.

"All right," Sam called back before looking to Elle once more. "Please don't say anything stupid in the next minute while I'm gone."

"I make no promises," Elle responded.

Dean and John continued to catch-up on things as Elle lay on the couch watching TV. There really wasn't anything good on, but channel surfing beat the alternative of spending time with her father. Sam was somewhat surprised that there wasn't an argument going on when he got back with the beer. The food was finally cooked and on the table which Sam, Dean, and John sat around.

"Beer and spaghetti, is this fine dining or what," Dean chuckled.

"Campbell, come over and eat," John commanded.

"I'm not hungry," Elle muttered.

"You come over and eat this now. Because I will not be saving any of this for your stubborn ass."

"Dad, she said she wasn't hungry. Just drop it," Sam said coming to Elle's defense.

"I mean it. I am not saving any for her."

"Fine, can we please just eat then?"

"More for me," Dean said.

Elle pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and spread it over herself as her stomach growled. So, she was hungry, but she was being stubborn. Thankfully, sleep managed to come easy to her and she was asleep in no more than a few minutes, falling asleep to the sound of the male Winchesters' voices. Elle awoke in the middle of the night to find that Sam had left her a note with money for the vending machine one the arm of the couch. Sam and Dean each were asleep in the own bed and John was asleep in the armchair near the couch. Elle rolled her eyes and grabbed the money before she slipped out of the room, walking outside toward the vending machine in her socks. She got a bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos and a bag of Skittles before she walked back to the room. She got back in the room and quietly tip-toed back to the couch, careful not to wake anyone up. She covered herself back up and had just opened the bag of Skittles when a voice broke the silence.

"That was stupid, Campbell," John muttered.

She mentally responded with you're stupid before she popped a handful of Skittles into her mouth. Elle was pretty sure that John was glaring at her through the darkness, but she just continued to eat her junk food. When she was finished, she lay back down and went back to sleep, her stomach no longer empty. The next morning, found the Winchester kids asleep and John sitting at the table with a radio in his hands. He heard a call go through and practically jumped to his feet and grabbed his jacket. He first walked over to Sam and Dean slapped at their feet to get them up. Sam immediately sat up as John walked over to where Elle lay sprawled out on the couch. He looked at her for a moment, trying not to think that she looked exactly like Mary in that awkward sleeping position. He then shook her shoulder.

"Campbell, let's go," John said.

"Five more minutes, Dean," Elle muttered.

"Now."

"No. More sleepy."

"Dad, what happened?" Sam asked half-asleep.

"I picked up a police call. A couple called 911, found a body in the street. Cops got there, everyone was missing. It's the vampires," John explained.

"How do you know?"

"Just follow me, ok?"

Sam grabbed his jacket and followed after John who was already out the door. The middle Winchester sibling yelled at his brother and sister before he walked outside. Dean forced himself out of bed, grabbed his jacket, before he ruffled his hair. Elle was still asleep on the couch. Dean filled up a cup of water and walked over and dumped it on Elle which forced her to sit up, with water dripping down her face.

"What the hell!" Elle shouted.

"Up and at 'em kiddo," Dean groaned. "Sam and Dad are already out the door."

"I'm wet," Elle hissed.

"Didn't need to know that, little sister."

"Ew, you're disgusting you perv."

"Well, let's go. They're not going to wait much longer."

"But I need a shower, brush my teeth, change my clothes…" Elle groaned.

"Your delaying tricks might work on me, but they ain't gonna work on Dad."

"Then maybe we just don't go."

"That's not gonna happen. Dad gave us an order and we're going."

Dean groaned before he picked his sister up in a fireman's carry. Elle fought her brother to get him to put her down, but he didn't do so until they were outside and the motel room door was locked behind them. Elle muttered that she hated him with her hair damp and still in yesterday's dirty clothes. She ran her fingers through her dirty and wet hair before she walked over and slid in the backseat of the Impala. Dean didn't even wait for her to shut the door before peeling off behind their father's truck. When they got to the scene, John told his children to stay behind… treating them just like they were kids. While they waited, Elle sat on the hood of the Impala playing her Pokémon game while John went off and talked to the cops. It was a bit chilly outside, so it was a good thing that she had a zip-up sweatshirt in the trunk. She sat there with her hood pulled up and her hair in a sidebraid while Sam and Dean were having a conversation in muffled tones. After Elle saved her game so that she wouldn't lose anything, she looked up to see John Winchester headed toward them.

"Look who's finally coming back," Elle said sarcastically.

"I don't see why we couldn't have gone over with him," Sam said sulkily.

"Oh not you too," Dean groaned. "Don't you start up too."

"Start what?"

"What have you got?" Dean directed toward John as the older man approached his kids.

"It was them all right. Looks like they're heading west. We'll have to double back to get around that detour," John responded.

"How can you be so sure?" Sam questioned.

"Sam," Dean hissed.

"I agree, he hasn't really told us shit about these vampires except what they're not," Elle inserted.

"Elle."

"We just want to know that we're going in the right direction," Sam said.

"We are," John said.

"How do you know?" Sam and Elle asked simultaneously.

"Found this."

John handed something over to Dean. Elle jumped off the hood of the car to get a closer look at what he had placed in Dean's hand, but John and Sam stood close to Dean so that she couldn't' see anything

"What is it?" Elle asked trying to push through.

"It's a—a vampire fang," Dean stated.

"They don't have fangs," John said. "They have a second set of teeth that descends when they attack."

"Of course they do," Elle stated sarcastically. "Why wouldn't they?"

"Any other questions?" John asked.

John looked between Sam and Elle who had finally managed to break her way through between her father and Dean. Elle picked the tooth from Dean's hand and turned it over in her own. It was rather creepy and not to mention that it sucked going into a situation knowing absolutely nothing about vampires. John repeated himself and Sam looked away, staying silent. Elle didn't speak either. John then mentioned that they should head out because they were losing daylight. He then made a comment that Dean should get his car touched up before it got rust and that he didn't give it to him to ruin it. John then walked to his truck before Dean sighed looking down at his car. Both Sam and Elle gave Dean I told you so looks to which Dean responded with a shake of his head.

"All right I ain't dealing with two of you acting like this," Dean commented. "One of you is riding with Dad."

"Why don't you ride with Dad?" Elle retorted.

"Because it's my car, my rules."

"Well, dibs not it," Sam said as he put his finger on his nose.

"Hey, not cool!" Elle argued as she fumbled to get her finger to her nose. "Redo."

"Nope, you lost, Elle-Belle," Dean said. "Scoot your little booty over there."

"No."

"Hey Dad, Elle's riding with you!" Dean shouted.

John waved his hand out the window acknowledging that he heard Dean.

"You ass!"

"You might wanna go. Dad's expecting you."

"I hate you both, remember that when I'm dead."

Dean motioned for Elle to walk toward the truck. She rolled her eyes, slid her Gameboy into her pocket, and moved for the backseat of the Impala. Dean intercepted her and told her to go to the truck and Elle complained that she was just trying to grab her shoulder bag. Or at least that's what she told him. She was trying to crawl in the backseat, but Dean grabbed the bag for her and slung it over her shoulder.

"Dean," Elle whined.

"Be nice," Dean whispered.

"Oh my god, Dean, I'm not a complete bitch all the time."

"I mean it. Maybe if you're nice you'll get what you want out of him."

"Was this your plan the whole time?"

"Go."

Elle gave Dean her sad puppy dog eyes, but they didn't work. He just pushed her in the direction of John's truck. Elle sighed before she slowly trudged toward the truck. She heard her father yell for her to hurry up to which Elle responded with an eye roll before she turned around to see her brother's sitting in the Impala. Stupid Dean and his stupid plan. She flipped the bird behind her back for her brothers to see as she approached the truck door. She looked inside to see John shoving some papers with childish scribbles into his jacket as she tried to open the door. It was locked. Elle groaned as she slapped against the window. He then leaned across and pulled up the lock. She then climbed inside and set her shoulder bag on the floor. She brought her feet up to the seat so that she could sit cross-legged before she looked at John who still hadn't said a word.

"What was that?" Elle asked pointing to the piece of paper somewhat sticking out of his jacket.

"Nothing," John muttered.

"So I should just pretend that I bought into that lie, right?"

John didn't say anything. Instead, he turned the key in the ignition and began to drive. John's classic rock radio station began blaring through the speakers. How perfect was it that Highway to Hell was the song on the radio at that very moment. Elle looked over at her father through the corner of her eyes. He looked over at her before returning his eyes to the road. Several songs later, John leaned over and turned the volume down on the radio.

"So…" John started. "I suppose we should talk or something."

"So…" Elle responded. "How about we don't. There's only one thing I'd want to hear from you and we both know you'll never say it."

John nodded his head and sighed.

"So, we can just not talk and then tell Dean that we did," Elle sighed. "Win-win."

"Campbell," John groaned.

"Don't. Ok. Just don't. I get it now. You hate me. It took me twenty-one years, almost twenty-two to figure it out. But I get it."

John looked at Elle with an almost hurt expression on his face before he took a deep breath and looked forward. He tried to focus on the road instead of wanting to tell his daughter like it was. Elle pulled her hood back in place and took her Gameboy out of her pocket before she put her feet up on the dash of the truck.

"Get your feet off my dash," John said.

"You care about your freaking dash more than me," Elle scoffed.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing at all."

"You—you can mess with the radio, if you want."

"No, I don't want to. It will just give you something else to hate me for…no thank you."

"Feet."

Elle rolled her eyes before she wiped her feet against the dash a few times and then took them down. She knew that she was acting childish with him…but she had never really done that much before. She had been looking for his approval for so long that she had been quiet and reserved when it came to John Winchester…at least before they got Sam. Now, she was taking a page from Sam's book and letting him have it… sorta, in a more immature way of course. She was twenty-two years old and probably acting four, but she didn't care. John Winchester deserved it…and more. She wasn't sure how long it had been when John Winchester pointed out something that meant they were on the vampires trail. Elle didn't really care, she was just ready to get this done and over with so that they could go back to life without him.

"Call Dean," John commanded.

"Why don't you do it, if it's so damn important," Elle said.

"Because I gave you an order, Campbell."

"Well, here's the thing. I've stopped taking your shitty orders since you left Dean and me. I'm done trying to please you because I know that it's just like waiting for rain in a drought: useless and disappointing."

"Now is not the time for you to revert to being a pain-in-the-ass teenager. Call him."

"No."

"Yes, you will do as I say."

"I already told you I wasn't going to."

"Campbell Mary Winchester you pick up that damn phone and call your brother!"

He had yelled that last part. John was practically shaking in anger at the wheel and Elle sat there watching him carefully, breathing in and out slowly, and calculating her next response. She knew better than to fan the fire so to speak, but she was sick of letting John Winchester come out on top.

"Yeah, the full name thing isn't going to work," Elle said.

"Goddammit, Campbell!" John hissed.

John reached for the spot where he kept his cellphone, only it had fallen to the floor near Elle's feet. He searched the dash for it and gave a few choice expletives when he saw it sitting at Elle's feet. Elle knew it was at her feet because she was playing with it between her Converse sneakers.

"Hand me my phone," John told Elle.

"How would you get it if I wasn't here?" Elle retorted.

"Now."

"You know, if you would've said please I might've considered it, but now you're going to have to get it yourself."

Elle kicked the phone toward his feet because she didn't want him any closer to her than he already was. He cursed a few more times as he gripped the steering wheel with only one hand to reach down for his phone. He began swerving toward oncoming traffic and Elle rolled her eyes and pulled the wheel back the other direction which made John even angrier at her. He yelled at her that he had things under control and Elle sarcastically muttered an apology. John finally managed to pick up his phone and call Dean. He mentioned something about taking the next exit and then he hung up. Moments later, the Impala was cruising past them before it swerved sideways. John had to slam on the brakes in order to keep from t-boning the car. In the process, Elle hit her face on dash, causing her nose to start bleeding. But John didn't seem to care or notice the blood gushing from her nose. No, getting out of the truck to yell at Sam was more important. Tears began to well in Elle's eyes. She wasn't sure if it was from the physical pain of her nose or the pain in her heart of being invisible again.

She tried to hide her face, not wanting to look weak and pathetic in front of her father. She used an old rag lying on the floor to press against her nose. She made sure that she leaned down so that gravity would do its job and naturally clot the blood. Out the windshield, she could see John and Sam going at it. Sam wanted to know what their father knew about the situation, but their father continued to be his vague and cryptic self. John told Sam to get back in the car, but Sam had a stubborn streak that could rival Elle's and he said that he wouldn't get back in the car. The situation had finally pushed Sam to his breaking point, because he wasn't as calm about things as he was last night. Dean eventually intervened and pushed Sam back toward the Impala. Sam hissed at their father that this why was why he left in the first place. And Elle's heart practically broke as John actually reacted to the situation. He went at Sam with the words he had been holding back, something he never did with her. She had seen enough. She dropped the bloody rag to the floor, picked up her shoulder bag, and quietly got out of the truck. She began walking away from the situation in the direction they had come from. Elle looked over her shoulder to see Sam and her father face to face in anger before she blinked several times to stop any tears turned away.

Her nose was still bleeding as she walked. The only reason she had dropped the rag was so that John would find it and realize that she had been hurt. While she would never admit it aloud and rarely admit it to herself to begin with, there was a part of her that still held out for the hope that John did care about her. She wiped some blood from her nose against the sleeve of her sweatshirt as she kept walking. She was surprised that it only took John's truck fifteen minutes to pull up alongside of her. Elle walked for a bit ignoring the fact that he was driving slower to keep pace with her. He leaned across the truck and rolled down the passenger's side window.

"Campbell, get in the truck," John commanded.

"No," Elle responded.

"I said, get in the damn truck."

"You didn't use damn last time…and no."

"Get in the truck or I will leave your ass."

"Not like I haven't heard that one before. So go ahead and leave. It's what you're good at."

"There are vamps out here and you're bleeding."

"Yeah, like you really care."

"Elle…"

"Leave! It's what I want you to do!"

Elle looked at John and he appeared to be fighting back what he wanted to say. Why couldn't he just say it straight to her like he did Sam or Dean? Elle couldn't say that she was entirely surprised by what he did next. He sighed and then hit the gas, sending the truck hurtling forward. Elle flipped him off as his truck continued to grow smaller in the distance. She had probably walked close to a mile before she came across this little bar in the middle of nowhere. Part of her wanted to keep going all the way back to town because she was stubborn, but her father's reminder about vampires came to mind. She should probably at least somewhat protect herself with other human beings so that she wouldn't be singled out. As she walked into the bar, she didn't even notice a familiar truck parked in the darkness under a tree.

Inside the bar, Elle found it much more packed than she anticipated it to be. There was a group of about eight twenty-something guys at the two pool tables, several middle-aged men and women playing darts, and a lone guy at the bar with his back to her. Elle walked all the way through the bar to sit at the far end by herself. A lady bartender came up to her with a basket of nuts after she was seated.

"What'll it be?" the bartender asked.

"Surprise me," Elle groaned.

"Sprite?"

"Something stronger."

"Then I'm going to need to see some identification."

"I'm twenty-two, c'mon."

"Hey, you might be one of those underage people trying to get this place slapped with a hefty fine."

Elle groaned as she reached for her shoulder bag. She set her sketchbook down on the counter so that she could reach her wallet. She pulled out one of the fake IDs and handed it to the woman. The woman thanked Paige Plant and handed her back her ID before she went to go get Elle an alcoholic beverage. She brought back something called a Fuzzy Navel, which Elle drank fairly quickly since it didn't really taste of alcohol. Elle rubbed at her face as she tried to forget what a craptastic night it had been as she looked around the bar when she made eye contact with the guy across from her. She did a double take…he looked awfully familiar, but she quickly looked away and asked the bartender for another surprise fruity drink. She could swear that it looked almost like the guy they had saved several months ago from the Wendigo, but she was careful not to look back up at him. Elle slid her sketchbook back into her bag and dropped it to the floor. When she looked up, there was someone standing beside her. She nearly screamed.

"Holy crap! You almost gave me a heart attack!" Elle said.

"I think know you," the young man said.

"I don't think so," Elle lied as she pushed a stray tendril of hair behind her ear.

"You saved me while back," the man said, his voice dropping low.

"You must have me confused with someone else. I'm a nobody, that's all."

"That's a load of crap and you know it."

"Fine, if you're so sure I'm your savior then what's my name?"

Elle folded her arms across her chest almost as if she were daring the guy.

"Elle," the guy said. "Your name is Elle Winchester."

"Lucky guess," Elle shrugged.

"It's not lucky. I know you."

"You don't know anything aside from the fact that I helped save your ass."

"So you admit it?"

"Do I really have a choice?"

"No."

The guy smiled at Elle and she couldn't help but smile back. His smile was almost contagious. She was beginning to feel rather warm, but she wasn't sure if it was the alcohol kicking in or his gaze on her. The bartender interrupted their brief moment by bringing Elle some sort of fruity drink. She wasn't opposed to it, because she liked them, but normally didn't get them because Dean would make fun of her. Elle turned away from the guy and took a sip of her drink as he sat down on the barstool beside her.

"I'm Tommy, by the way," he said with a grin.

"I know your name," Elle commented. "I did save you after all."

"Wasn't sure you'd remember. I had a feeling I wasn't your first."

Elle choked on her drink for a moment at the double-meaning of those words. Tommy realized his mistake and laughed.

"The first person you've saved that is," Tommy quickly clarified.

"You're not," Elle said with her face flaming from embarrassment to the point that she had to fan her face with her hands. "But I remember almost everyone we've helped."

"How many people have you saved?"

"A lot. It's the family business."

"You got a number?"

"Off the top of my head: no. I'd have to go find my sketchbooks and count the pictures. I always make a sketch after every job to help remind me that I did something good for the world because let me tell you, it's a depressing gig."

"You draw?"

"It's not that good or anything."

"Show me."

Elle looked down at her shoulder bag for a quick moment. Tommy must've put that together because without asking for her permission he reached down and grabbed her bag. She just hoped that he didn't find her more embarrassing items like feminine products or her gun, but he quickly pulled out her sketchbook and started flipping through it. Elle watched him intently as she continued to sip her drink. She did want an outside person's opinion on her work, but part of her was almost too scared that he would say it sucked. He quickly flipped through several pictures.

"They're not as bad as you were claiming them to be. Actually, they're pretty damn good. Well, except for this one with the scribbling."

Tommy turned the sketchbook toward her revealing the picture she had sketched of the lake scene which had black wing scribbles over it. Elle rolled her eyes before he turned the sketchbook back toward himself.

"I didn't do the scribbles, it was a disturbed kid," Elle argued.

"Sure it was," Tommy chuckled.

"I'm serious."

"I thought we already established that you're Elle and I'm Tommy."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny."

"I try and what's with this one?"

Tommy showed her the picture she had drawn of him. Elle got embarrassed and put her hands over her face to hide it which only made him laugh before he continued talking.

"This looks nothing like me. The nose is all wrong. My nose is much more crooked, but I do say that this dude is undeniably handsome."

"Ok, that's enough for you."

Elle reached over and pulled her sketchbook from Tommy's hands and shoved it back in her bag. She had to admit that she was actually enjoying herself. She didn't have to put on an act for anyone. She didn't have to deal with her family. She could just be Elle. Tommy ordered them both another drink. She probably should have told him that she normally cut herself off after two drinks since Llama Bitch, but his smile distracted her. The bartender came back with two bottles of beer and Elle found herself quite giggly. She was laughing at almost anything Tommy said.

It was just comfortable.

"I—uh—I can't find my phone," Tommy said patting his pants and jacket pockets. "Can I borrow your phone to call myself?"

"Knock yourself out," Elle said.

She slid her phone across the bar to Tommy who easily caught it. He picked it up and pressed his digits into the phone. A few moments later his phone began to ring from inside his jacket pocket. He started to laugh as he pulled his phone out and ended both phone calls.

"Oops," Tommy said with a wink.

"You just wanted my number," Elle giggled.

"Guilty," Tommy grinned.

"You could've just asked, you know."

"But you might've just given me some fake number."

"Looks like we'll never know now."

Elle excused herself for a moment to go to the bathroom. She nervously fixed her hair. She wasn't sure why she cared so much about what Tommy thought about her. She rolled the sweatshirt sleeves up to her elbows so that the blood stain wasn't visible any longer. She looked in the mirror and breathed heavily before she walked back out into the bar where Tommy sat with her sketchbook once again.

"This is me saving my sketchbook from you," Elle giggled.

"Well, now it's my turn to save you," Tommy stated somewhat solemnly.

"From what?"

"That table of guys has been checking you out for like the last thirty minutes."

"I thought they were checking you out," Elle joked.

"They were talking about you while you were gone. Disgusting things."

"Let 'em talk. I'm too buzzed to care."

"Maybe we should get out of here."

"Yeah, that's cool."

"Let me drive you home—or wherever you're staying."

Elle thought a moment. She had no desire to return to the same dwelling unit as John Winchester or her brothers. She was going to take a risk here. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but she went for it. Besides, there were girls who knew guys a lot less. She had technically known Tommy for months…and not to mention that she wasn't ready to face her family yet.

"Why don't we go to your place instead?"

"It's just a crummy motel room."

"Sounds great. I'm used to crummy motel rooms."

"I—uh—ok. Just let me pay."

Tommy picked-up both their tabs before they walked out of the bar. Elle unconsciously reached to hold his arm as they walked past the group of guys who couldn't keep their mouths shut. But she wasn't sure which one of them they were talking about. There was mention of the new town drunk getting some, which confused Elle. This was only her second night in town and the first night she had gotten drunk. But her drunk state didn't get much beyond that in thought. Instead, she just clung to Tommy's arm who didn't really seem to mind. They stopped at a blue Honda Civic before Tommy pulled his arm out of Elle's grasp. They got in and Elle didn't even think to question if he was ok to drive. But she certainly knew that she was in no state to drive. She smiled over at him as they pulled out of the parking lot, not even noticing the headlights from a truck following them at a distance.

His motel wasn't too far from the bar, but Elle was happier that it wasn't the motel the Winchesters were staying at. Once they got out of the car drunk Elle demanded that Tommy give her a piggy back. He bent down and Elle got a running start before she went flying and landed on his back. She giggled as he stood up and walked them over to the door. There was a thought in the back of her head telling her not to do this…but she ignored the voice in her head. Tommy unlocked the door after a few tries, struggling to do it with Elle occasionally batting at his hands. When they got inside, he apologized for the mess as he set Elle down on the floor; but Elle somewhat sobered-up at the sight and common sense was beginning to come back to her a bit.

The room was covered in empty beer bottles and cans. There were pizza boxes stacked almost up to the TV. Clothes were scattered all over the place. The picture looked as if it had been punched, the lamp shade was missing, a gun on the bedside table, and Tommy walked quickly to remove the sheet dangling from one of the shower rod which was now stretched elsewhere. There was something not right about this and Elle knew it. She played with her braid as she leaned against the wall with her arms folded across her chest.

"How long did you say you've been here?" Elle asked.

"Couple days."

"A couple of days, really? Believe me, I've lived in my share of motel rooms and this doesn't look like a couple of days lived in."

"Fine, a couple weeks, months maybe. I don't really remember."

"Does Haley know?"

"She's part of the reason I'm here."

Elle looked up to see Tommy standing with his back turned toward her, somewhat shaking. Elle walked over to him and stood so that she was in front of him. She reached out to him and hugged him tightly around his middle, which only seemed to make him shake harder. She knew he was crying, which made her heart hurt and want to cry with him. She knew what this was really about and she knew exactly how that felt.

"She's been smothering me like crazy and I know it's not her fault. I just can't handle it anymore. Any of it. I can't sleep at night without thinking of that thing. I can't do normal things anymore without thinking that something or someone is out to get me. I always see it. I see it in the shower. I see it at restaurants. But the worst place was back at home where I tried so hard to go back to normal. I lost my job. I drink until I pass out to force myself to sleep. Everything has gone to shit and I don't want to be here anymore. I drained my bank account, life's savings, money for Haley and Ben and I'm here wasting it on booze and motel rooms. I want it all to be done and over with. Haley's tried to get me to see someone to talk to, but they don't get it. They don't understand that there are monsters out there in this world. They'd just think I'm crazy. But you know that I'm not. I know you've seen worse, but I just can't…You have no idea how many times I've thought of killing myself these past months. I was thinking about it tonight and then I saw you and…"

"Hey, don't talk like that," Elle said looking up and cupping one of his cheeks with her hand. "You're here for a reason. You matter."

Tommy's teary eyes locked on Elle's and he seemed to find some comfort in them.

"Seeing you reminded me of who I used to be before it all. I've felt so alone for so long now. I couldn't remember the last time I smiled, but tonight with you…"

"Yeah, I felt the same," Elle whispered back.

Elle blushed for a second and turned away, but she wasn't prepared for him to crash his lips on hers. His kiss practically took her breath away as his hands cupped her cheeks. His breath tasted of alcohol which might have added a bit to the situation. She knew he was hurting, but so was she and for some reason this seemed to lessen the pain and maybe, just maybe she could make things better for him. Her arms snaked around Tommy's neck as she pulled herself a little closer to him as he continued to kiss her fervently. The last time she had kissed anyone was months ago and it had been unwanted, but this—it seemed real. Well, as real as it could get for her. Finally feeling somewhat close to someone in a way she had longed for…yet there was a part of her that knew this wasn't it, but she silenced that voice in her head as her fingers wove through Tommy's hair. He nipped at her bottom lip which caused her to gasp and open her mouth a little wider to give his tongue entrance. Elle continued to follow Tommy's lead until they both had to stop to come up for a moment of air. Elle was breathing hard as Tommy's lips quickly found their way to her neck which sent shivers down her spine. She felt like she was going to melt in his arms, she was left practically clinging to him. She had longed for someone to recognize her in this way for so long now and it felt mostly right, but there was this gnawing thought in the back of her head that told her to stop and turn back now, but she ignored it as Tommy began to walk her backward toward the bed.

Elle began to grow nervous as Tommy continued to caress her neck with his kisses. Was she going to go through with this? Was she going to stop him? They hadn't really known each other all that long. But it seemed like the next logical progression to things. She was always too cautious. Too scared. Too over-analytical. Maybe it was time to throw caution to the wind and for once try to be happy, feel normal, and let herself be vulnerable in a sense she had never been before. But they both needed someone else. She needed this just as much as he did. Elle lay back against the pillows as Tommy leaned over her looking down at her. She bit her bottom lip and smiled as he slowly unzipped her sweatshirt to reveal the bright orange Everything's bigger in Texas shirt which made him chuckle. He pushed the sleeves down from her arms and Elle helped him finish taking it off before she wrapped an arm around his neck again and kissed him hungrily as he began to pull her t-shirt up. Once her shirt was off and Elle sat there in her nude colored bra, she began to tug at Tommy's shirt. He smiled before he took it off himself and Elle stared admiringly at him before he caught her which caused her to blush. Instead of saying anything, he kissed her and leaned her back against the pillows when suddenly Tommy began grasping at his head in pain and screaming just as the door came bursting open. Tommy rolled off Elle still clutching his head muttering something under his breath to make it stop.

"Campbell, what in the hell do you think you're doing," John Winchester hissed.

"Dad, what the hell!" Elle hissed as she reached for her t-shirt to at least cover herself somewhat. "What are you doing here?"

"I followed you. Get your clothes on, we're leaving."

"You can't make me go anywhere. I'm twenty-two years old. That's an adult in case you've forgotten."

"You're a kid, my kid, and I say we're going."

"No."

"Don't make me shoot him."

Elle looked at Tommy who was now standing against the wall opposite the bed with a terrified expression on his face as John Winchester began to walk toward him. Elle groaned quickly pulled the t-shirt over her head before she intercepted her father but putting herself between him and Tommy.

"Dad, leave him alone," Elle said.

"You're drunk and he was going to take advantage of you," John hissed.

"I—I'm sorry, sir," Tommy squeaked. "I—I didn't…"

"I was letting him do it," Elle groaned. "Besides, he was being a lot nicer to me than you have ever been to me."

"Get in the truck," John commanded ignoring Elle's jab at him. "Do as you're told."

"Only because I don't want you to shoot him."

John didn't leave the room until Elle was out of it. She shivered a bit as she walked to the truck because she left her sweatshirt in the room. When she got to the truck, she looked up at the night sky which was glittered with stars. The sight that usually brought her comfort made her angry. Angry enough that she punched John truck door, which was a really stupid idea. She was pretty sure that she head some sort of crunch against her knuckles on the same hand that had been caged not too long ago. She tried to compose herself to not cry as John shouted for her to get in the truck. Elle took a deep breath before she crawled inside. For the most part the ride was utter silence. Which drove Elle insane. He should be yelling at her or something! Shouldn't he? It's what he'd to do Sam or Dean. It was driving her crazy, so a few miles away from the Winchester's motel, she started up the conversation.

"How long have you been following me?"

John didn't say anything.

"Why'd you do it?" Elle questioned. "You've never tried to be father of the year before. Do you just enjoy making my life miserable? Is that it?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you," John said gruffly. "You're my kid and you're supposed to listen. End of story."

"Well, you can stop acting like you give a damn because we both know that you don't. I mean, hell, Sam had to drag me away from the Daeva when you were closest to me. So what's with the act?"

John kept his mouth shut and stared straight at the road, but the mention of Sam saving her stung at his heart.

"Fine, don't tell me. Just know that I'm not buying it. You might have Dean fooled, maybe even Sam, but don't think for a second you have me fooled too."

The truck came to a stop in the parking lot of their motel, but Elle had one last thing she wanted to clear up.

"I don't want you to say anything, John. I just want you to listen, John. I am still keeping your freaking secret about that night from Sam and Dean. So you're going to keep what you just saw from them. If you tell them then I tell them too. Got it?"

As usual, John didn't say anything; but she assumed his silence as agreeing.

"Do you have any aspirin? My head is pounding," Elle sighed, not making a mention of her injured hand as well.

"Glove box," John muttered before he got out of the truck.

Elle took the bottle out of the glove compartment, buried under a picture of her and Sam with the Easter bunny when they were teenagers that Dean had made them get as a dare. She thought it was slightly odd that it was here, but she just took several aspirin from the bottle and went inside the motel room, where Sam was asleep, but Dean had been waiting for them. Elle rolled her eyes at her brother before she collapsed on the couch.

"You two have been out for a while. Have a good time? Do some father/daughter bonding?" Dean said with a grin.

"I don't want to talk about it," Elle muttered. "I just want to go to bed."

"We should all get some sleep so we can get those sons-of-bitches first thing tomorrow," John said after he came out of the bathroom.

"Yes, sir," Dean said.

The lights went out a few minutes later and Elle found it hard to sleep. She was almost positive that John was keeping a very strict eye on her. She lay awake staring at the shadows the tree branches were playing against the wall and her thoughts turned to Tommy. Not about what almost happened between them, but how badly he was hurting. This life could really mess with people and it clearly had taken over Tommy's life. That much was obvious, given the fact that he was willing to subject himself to her company for the night. She felt a strong desire to still help him. She definitely wasn't going to let things get out of hand…at least not so soon, but she could help him. She had survived this long, hadn't she? She had to be capable of something.

So the next morning, when Sam, Dean, and her father were getting ready to head out to the vampire nest, Elle asked for the day off. Something she hadn't really done before. She blamed the hangover and her throbbing hand, which were both true, but she kept her ulterior motives a secret. As soon as the boys were gone, she got up, got showered, got dressed, and started walking to where she vaguely remembered Tommy's motel to be. She managed to get there in one piece before she stood outside his door and knocked. It took him several minutes to get to the door, but he was quite surprised to see her standing there.

"I—uh—I thought after last night you—you'd never want to see me again," Tommy said sheepishly.

"You can't get rid of me that easily…and I wanted to see that you were still in the land of the living after everything," Elle said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"I—I'm really sorry about last night, really, I am. All of it… the me taking advantage of you part..."

"First of all, you weren't. Second, I kinda got that from the twenty-seven text message apologies."

"Your dad seemed really pissed."

"His personality is eternal constipation."

"Does he—uh—does he know you're here?"

"No."

"He's not going to come flying through that door again, is he?"

"No, no, no. He's out uh—hunting with my brothers."

"And you didn't go with him?"

"I told him to shove it where the sun don't shine."

"Oh."

"Actually, I just told my brothers I wanted a day off and here we are. So, are we just going to stand here all day or are you going to get showered and dressed so we can go do normal people things?"

"Normal people things?"

"I was thinking breakfast and figuring it out from there. I'm starving, so hurry your ass up. Also, a bit of a disclaimer, all I know about normal is what I've seen on TV which I highly suspect isn't all that normal."

Tommy shook his head before he let Elle inside. It was still a mess, but Elle shooed him over to the bathroom and she began to pick-up his mess. Or at least she tried. She dumped the pizza boxes, bottles, and cans into the dumpster. She took the shattered glass out of the picture frame, leaving just the picture. She put the lampshade back on the lamp and slipped the gun into her shoulder bag. Tommy was in complete shock when he came out of the bathroom to find his room clean. Elle didn't respond with a 'you're welcome', instead she just told him to make it snappy so that they could go eat.

The walk to the restaurant was a rather silent one. Tommy didn't really seem to have much to say. So, Elle kept on rambling about how nice the mountain air was and about the weather, trying to keep things as positive as she could, despite so often being a negative person. When they got to the restaurant, Tommy and Elle ordered their food and Elle let the waitress know that she would be paying. Elle continued to babble on until the food finally got there. Elle had French Toast and Tommy had ordered some sort of scrambled egg dish. Elle took a big bite of food when Tommy finally decided to speak up.

"Why are you doing this?" Tommy asked.

"Eating?" Elle asked after she swallowed her food. "Probably because I'm hungry."

"No, this whole thing."

"Being nice to you? Because I get what you're going through. I'm sorry it happened to you, but it did and that's something you're going to have to live with. I've seen and heard of too many people that can't handle living after going through a supernatural ordeal. I—uh—I've been close to there a few times myself. But I don't want to see that happen to you. Awkward confession time, when we were looking for you—I felt this connection to you. I couldn't explain it, I still can't. But I knew that I had to help you. And I feel the same thing now. There's still this connection and I want to see you back on your feet. Ok? I don't want you to end up like the others, because for some reason that I still haven't figured out yet…I care. And it doesn't hurt that you're decent looking."

"Only decent?"

"Fine, I think you're hot…happy?"

Tommy couldn't help but smile as he stabbed at his eggs and took a bite of them. Elle shook her head as her phone vibrated in her pocket. She took it out to see that she had a text message from Dean. She didn't open it. Instead, she put the phone back in her pocket. While Tommy needed to finally get back to a normal life, she deserved at least one day of normal, right? She looked over at Tommy and smiled. To her surprise, he smiled back. Things must be going all right so far. When they finished their food, Elle paid the bill and then she and Tommy headed outside. They walked side by side on the sidewalk.

"So, what's next?" Tommy questioned.

"From what I've seen on TV, since we just got done eating at a diner, I think we walk around town and talk about our feelings and stuff," Elle said. "We talk to random townspeople who randomly give us sage advice."

"What shows have you been watching?"

"You don't want to know."

"Fair enough."

"Maybe we should do something you used to like to do."

"I used to run…"

"No, god no, anything but that."

Tommy chuckled and mentioned that there was a park nearby. Elle breathed a sigh of relief as they walked to the park. Surprisingly, there were no children playing there, so they had the place to themselves. Elle climbed onto the play structure and Tommy followed behind her. They just played like carefree kids for several minutes, before Elle laid down on the playground's bridge and Tommy sat beside her. Elle could feel a buzzing in her pocket again. She pulled her phone out and saw that this time it was Sam calling her. She hit the ignore button.

"Is that your dad calling you?" Tommy asked.

"No, my brother. My dad and I don't really have a relationship," Elle responded as she set her phone down.

"I never would've guessed that from last night."

"He just wants his way. It had nothing to do with me. It had to do with him and what he wanted. He wants to make my life miserable. So there's that…"

"I just didn't get that vibe from him."

"John Winchester is good at fooling people, believe me; but we're not here to deal with my problems."

"I'm fine."

"Then call your sister."

"What? Why?"

"I'm sure she's worried sick about you. When was the last time you talked to her?"

"When I left."

"Exactly. Do it, or I'll call her for you because I think I still have her number."

"It could be a while."

"Hey, I'm just going to be here, relaxing on my day-off. Go on."

Elle lay there, but eventually moved to the swings after she was almost stepped on by some kids running across the bridge. She watched as Tommy sat at a picnic bench talking to his sister. She could have sworn that she saw him wipe at his eyes several times, but this was a good thing. He needed to talk to her. Haley got it. She had gone up against the thing too and come out on top. Part of Elle wondered if Haley was struggling with this as bad as Tommy was…but there was something about a guy feeling completely useless that was a bit different, she supposed. It seemed like a long time before Tommy finally walked over to join her on the swings.

"Was that so bad?" Elle asked.

"She was crying almost the entire time," Tommy groaned.

"She missed you. That's what sister's do."

"Sounds like you're talking from experience."

"Yeah, my brother Sam left us to go to college for a while."

"How do you do it?"

"You ask a lot of ambiguous questions."

"How do you keep on living. I'm guessing that you've seen a lot more crap than I have."

"I—I have my brothers who look after me. I live life one day at a time, trying to be ready for whatever happens. I try not to let things control me, but I have my weak moments and I try to accept those. And I keep a package of Depends on hand at all time, cuz things can get shitty really fast."

"Really?"

"I was joking about the Depends part," Elle giggled. "But the rest of it is true for the most part. I think the hardest part of this life is knowing that sometimes we're completely helpless and that's hard to accept."

Elle's phone buzzed again.

"You should take that," Tommy said.

"Why?" Elle asked.

"You made me."

"Way to shove that back in my face."

She sat up and accepted the call from Sam on her phone. She was surprised to hear how fast Sam was talking. He and Dad were back at the motel and discovered that she wasn't there. She lied about needing to get some air…which in fact wasn't a complete lie. He then went on to describe how he, Dean, and Dad had completely sucked at the mission that she wasn't on. It almost made her feel slightly useful that the botched it up without her. But apparently they were in trouble now because vamps keep your scent for life and they had this gun that could help them take down the demon. The demon that had killed her and Mary. He then continued to ramble how Dean was at the funeral home trying to get some dead man's blood to paralyze the vampires the next time they met them…which was going to have to be that night and they needed her. Sam finally took a breath after his speech.

"Looks like you guys fucked things up without me," Elle chuckled.

"Basically, so when can you get back here?" Sam asked.

"I—um—I'm with a friend right now."

"When did you have time to make a friend?"

"He's—uh—an old friend."

"He?"

"Shit."

Sam chuckled as Elle awkwardly paused to fix what she had said.

"It's not what you think, Sam," Elle mumbled.

"Sure it's not," Sam teased.

"It's not."

"All right, well just get back to the motel. We have a game plan to strategize."

"I suppose."

"Besides, you can hold it over Dad's head that he needs your help."

"I like the way you think."

"Yeah, see you soon, lovergirl."

"Sam…"

Sam hung up on her and she slipped her phone back into her pocket. She twisted her swing up and then let it undo itself, nearly kicking Tommy as she spun. He jumped out of the way, landing face first into a pile of woodchips which caused them both to break-out in laughter. He got back up and sat on the swing next to Elle's as she explained that her family needed her. She made Tommy promise not to drink…much. She knew that sometimes a bit of alcohol helped with things, but too many peopled tended to go overboard. She also told him to call her or text her when things got bad and he promised that he would. Then she made a promise she wasn't sure she was going to be able to keep. She promised that she would see him again. He then leaned across the gap and gently kissed her, surprising her yet again.

"What was that for?" Elle asked.

"Good luck," Tommy shrugged.

"Well, I liked it."

"Me too."

"Looks like I'm going to have to stay alive if I want more where that came from."

Elle pressed a kiss against Tommy's cheek before he stood up and hugged her tightly. She had always envisioned that relationships in whatever sense took forever to build, but this one seemed to move incredibly fast. And Elle couldn't help but feel that she wanted someone to hold her, to protect her, to tell her that everything was going to be all right. She then walked away from him and he appeared to be smiling as she left. That was a step, right? She met up with the Impala a few miles from the motel, so Dean drove her the rest of the way. He had the dead man's blood in a paper bag on the floor in the front, so Elle kept her feet up as she sat beside him. When they got inside, their dad asked if Dean had the goods and he set the paper bag on the table between Sam and Dad. John looked at Elle suspiciously, Sam winked in her direction, and for once Dean did nothing out of the ordinary toward her. Elle pulled out a chair as they strategized what was going to happen that night.

Under the cover of night, Elle stood behind a tree holding a crossbow with arrows that had been soaked in dead man's blood. For once, she wasn't the bait. No, Dean was playing bait…but it made sense since the vamps has his scent. That was also the reason Elle had the crossbow, because the vampires didn't have her scent. For all they knew, she didn't even exist. So even though they completely failed the job, it was almost a good thing that Elle hadn't been there. Sam and John stood on the other side of the road from her as they watched Dean open the hood to the Impala, acting as if something were wrong with it. Then a female vamp approached him, Sam told Elle, over the phone she had pressed against her ear, that the female vampire's name was Kate. Her name didn't really matter; she just had to be able to shoot the damn thing. Elle gagged as the thing kissed Dean, but she shot an arrow at the other vampire that was approaching the scene. This caused Kate to stand-up straight, giving Elle a clear shot at her. Elle shot an arrow through Kate. Sam and John then came out of the woods to take care of them the rest of the way. Elle hadn't realized how nervous she had been until after, when she saw how terribly her hands were shaking. She was surprised she even made the shots. Then again, they didn't go exactly where she had aimed them.

Elle walked out of the woods just in time for her father to chop the extra vamp's head off with a machete. Not the prettiest sight to see, but the thing was taken care of. Now they only had to deal with the one unconscious vampire. Dean took a water bottle out of the car and emptied it into his mouth swishing and gargling it before he spit it out to get the taste of vamp out of his mouth. She teased him and he pushed her over so that she fell into a pile of leaves as he moved to start a campfire. Sam stood watch with the machete in hand and Elle had the quiver of arrows soaked in dead man's blood still strapped to her back. If worse came to worse, she could always stab them with it. Elle sat near the campfire looking up at the stars through the hole in the forest canopy until she heard Sam and her dad start arguing again. She couldn't help but smirk. John Winchester was getting reamed out by two of his kids over the past few days, but what made her jump to her feet was hearing Dean finally chime in…on Sam and Elle's side.

"Dad, all due respect, but uh—that's a bunch of crap."

Her little legs carried her as fast as they could over to where her brothers and father stood as Dean continued to talk.

"You know what Sammy, Elle-Belle, and I have been hunting. Hell, you've sent us on a few of them yourself. You can't be that worried about keeping us safe after everything."

"It's not the same thing, Dean," John responded.

Elle was slightly jealous that John was actually responding to Dean's accusations, but she continued to listen.

"Then what is it? Why do you want us out of this fight so bad?" Dean questioned.

"This demon—it's a bad son-of-a-bitch. I can't make the same moves if I'm worried about keeping you three alive," John responded.

"You mean you can't be as reckless."

"Look…I don't expect to make it out of this fight in one piece. Your mother's death…it almost killed me. I can't watch my children die too…not again. I won't."

"What happens if you die? Dad, what happens if you die, and we coulda done something about it? I don't think any of us could live with that. And I've been doing some thinking. I—I think Sammy's right about this one. We should do this together."

Sam nodded his head. Elle found herself agreeing. While she didn't personally want to go after the thing, she did want revenge and the only way she was ever going to get it was with her brother and John freaking Winchester. Elle sighed and Dean must've noticed that she hadn't responded yet.

"Elle?" Dean asked.

"Yeah—I agree. I want to get the son-of-a-bitch that ruined my life, but there's no way in hell I'm doing it without the three of you, as much as I hate to admit it" Elle said.

"See? We're stronger as a family, Dad," Dean said wrapping an arm around his little sister. "And this morning goes to prove that we fall without even one of us."

"We're running out of time. You guys do your job and you get out of the area. That's an order," John said gruffly.

The Winchester children looked to each other with hurt expressions on their faces. Even when it was three against one, John Winchester was still a stubborn ass. They really shouldn't have expected that to change. Dean was probably the most hurt of the three of them, because he actually expected their dad to listen once he had chimed in his two cents. So they piled into the Impala as Dean drove them to a barn where the vampires kept their nest. Dean led the way with a machete, knowing to chop their heads off in order to kill them. Sam also had a machete and Elle held tightly to her crossbow, should the situation get sticky. They easily got past the first vampire before Dean broke the lock to get back to the others. Sam and Dean went in there swinging and Elle stood a bit behind when a vampire lunged at her. She squealed as she took a shot. The arrow nailed the thing in the neck.

"That ain't gonna work," the vamp hissed as he backed Elle up against the fence.

"Sorry, where are my manners? I forgot to tell you that those arrows are soaked in dead man's blood," Elle spat as she grabbed another arrow out of her quiver and jammed it into the other side of his neck. Seconds later, the thing was unconscious on the ground. "Oops."

Sam came over with his machete and chopped the thing's head off. She shot another arrow at a vamp that was putting up a good fight with Dean. Dean shouted his thanks as he sliced the head off. They had completely slaughtered that nest of vampires…at least those that were there. Elle breathed heavily when they were finished, but she actually felt somewhat accomplished. She felt like she had actually contributed something valuable to their success. Maybe her talk with Tommy had helped her instead. She only hoped that he was doing all right, but she had texted Haley behind his back to let her know where he was. Haley should be with him…Elle just hoped Tommy wouldn't be too mad. But he needed someone. Hell, everyone needs someone at some point. Elle pulled out her phone and saw that there weren't any new messages. Maybe he was doing ok. The Winchesters walked back to the Impala.

"So now what?" Sam asked.

"I think you know what we need to do," Dean said gruffly. "Dad's being a stubborn ass, but he needs our help whether he admits it or not."

"While a nap sounds preferable," Elle started. "Let's go do this before I change my mind."

The Impala sped along the highway to get to John Winchester as quick as they could. As they got closer to the scene, Dean turned the headlights off on the car until he pulled it to a complete stop. They were walking the rest of the way. Elle grabbed her crossbow. Sam and Dean grabbed their machetes and the three Winchesters began to run. They probably would have gotten in trouble for running with sharp objects had they been kids, but as they approached the situation, they could see that John was engaged in a battle with the vampires While part of Elle wanted to let him stay and fend for himself, they needed him. They needed him to catch this thing…just as much as he needed them. Elle shot her crossbow hitting one of the vampires, causing it to fall unconscious at John's feet. The Winchester kids came hurtling out of the trees. Elle continued to shoot randomly, hoping to hit a vamp or two, but then something unexpected happened. The lead vampire managed to get a hold of Sam and held him by the throat. Elle reached back in her quiver for more arrows, but she didn't have any. Dean charged toward the thing with a machete, but the vampire told him to stop or he'd break Sam's neck. Dean kept moving forward but the vampire tightened his hold on Sam's neck, cutting off his air supply The oldest Winchester sibling dropped the machete and backed up to cover his little sister. Elle felt the confidence she had beginning to drain from her. Sam was in trouble and there was nothing she could do to help.

"You people," the vampire spat. "Why can't you leave us alone? We have as much right to live as you do."

"I don't think so," John responded gruffly.

Elle turned to see her father raising a gun. This must be that Colt Sam had told her about. From the little bit of lore they explained to her…this gun could basically kill anything. John shot the gun, nailing the vampire between the eyes. The vampire released Sam and began to stumble away, gasping for breath. Elle kept her eyes focused on the thing as Dean reached to help Sam to his feet. She watched as a sigil appeared on the vampire's head where he had been hit. Then came a brief flash of light that Elle had to shield her eyes from, but she watched as the vampire fell to the ground dead. The thing was dead. Elle looked back to her father who was smiling in satisfaction. It worked. It really worked. Maybe, just maybe there was hope in all of this. Maybe, if just for a time she had to put up with John to kill this thing…and then she could get out. She could live her life…normally. Hell, maybe even fall in love, have kids, the whole nine yards. For once, Elle had hope that things were finally going to go her way.

The remaining vampires managed to slip away. John told the kids to take care of the vampires on the road and then to the motel while he took care of the two vampires left. He quickly jumped in his truck and took off in their direction. Sam and Dean chopped off the remaining vampires' heads and Elle helped drag the bodies to the side of the road. They were all exhausted by the time they made it back to the motel. Elle practically collapsed on the couch when her phone buzzed. She looked to see that she had a text message from Tommy which she immediately opened.

Hey, sorry it's late and I didn't text sooner. Haley found me. I think you have something to do with that. So thanks. Hope you kicked some ass. Talk more in the morning. –Tommy

Elle couldn't help but smile at his text. He was all right. Hope seemed to be the theme of the evening. Elle set her phone on the floor before she picked up the TV remote when the door opened. John Winchester dropped into the motel room. Sam, Dean, and Elle looked to each other unsure of what he was going to do or say.

"So kids…" John said. "You ignored a direct order back there."

"Yes, sir," Sam responded.

"Yeah, but we saved your ass," Dean added.

"Big time," Elle finished.

John looked to each of his children, unable to make eye contact with Elle.

"You're right," John conceded.

"We are? I—I mean, we are," Dean said.

"It scares the hell out of me. You guys are all I've got. But I guess we are stronger as a family. So…we go after this damn thing. Together."

"Yes, sir," Sam and Dean said simultaneously.

Elle wisely said nothing and just nodded her head. They were so close; she could almost taste the victory.


	22. Salvation

Elle Winchester slowly stretched her small frame on the couch which she had been sleeping on. It was way to freaking early—but she had a reason for her early rising. She was supposed to meet someone for breakfast. That certain someone she had been texting quite frequently since he had somehow come back into her life. She couldn't quite explain it and everything seemed to be such a blur, but she refused to miss out on the ride, so to speak, like she had for most of her life. No, she was going to try and enjoy this one. Not to mention keep it as much of a secret as possible…especially from her brothers. For once in her life, her father probably had more of a clue what was going on in her life than her brothers did, but that wasn't by choice. Although, John Winchester only knew what he had seen a few nights ago. It hardly seemed possible that the night before last they kicked a nest of vampires' asses. The Winchester had taken yesterday off to recuperate and to dig up anything they could on this son-of-a-bitch. Today, was hopefully the day that this thing would be going down. Well, at least after Elle had eaten breakfast with Tommy.

She stretched once more but fell to the floor with a heap of blankets. She tried to be very careful not to wake her father or brothers up as she got to her feet and tip-toed over to the bathroom with her duffel bag in hand. After she had showered, she probably changed her outfit half-a-dozen times before she settled on a pair of jeans, a tank top, and a blue plaid shirt to bring out her eyes. She felt like she was being stupid as she got dressed. Tommy probably didn't even care, that or he wouldn't notice, but Elle was very inexperienced at these sort of things. Her first instinct was to talk to her brothers about what they would think if they were in the situation, but that would completely give her away. Whether she admitted it or not, her brothers weren't stupid: not to mention they could usually read her like a book. Elle scrunched her hair, giving it that wet and curly look before she looked at her phone. Tommy had texted her that he was on his way to the diner to meet her. She exhaled slowly. Was it always this nerve-wracking? Elle opened the bathroom door to find Sam leaning against the wall giving her the look.

"Morning," Sam said.

"I—uh—hi," Elle responded.

"Whatcha doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Like you're going to go sneak out to meet someone."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's that your secret boyfriend of yours isn't it?"

"He's not my boyfriend."

"So it is him."

"Damnit."

Sam chuckled as Elle knocked her head against the doorframe for being so stupid as to walk right into his trap. He had her: hook, line, and sinker.

"I'm gonna come along and meet this mystery guy of yours," Sam said.

"No, you're not," Elle argued.

"I can always go wake Dean up and we can both follow you there."

"You are evil and must be destroyed."

"Give me five minutes."

"Three."

"Four and I'll pay."

"Fine, but I still hate you…in the kindest possible way."

"What?" Sam chuckled.

"It makes sense if you don't think about it," Elle said with a smirk.

Sam tousled Elle's perfect locks before he snuck past her into the bathroom and locked the door. Elle immediately ran to a small mirror on the other side of the room to make sure that Sam hadn't messed her hair up too badly, but she was careful not to wake the remaining Winchester men. She sighed as she looked over to Dean who had fallen asleep on top of the blankets. While she was pissed at him for seemingly choosing their father over her, she didn't envy his position… But she always felt that Dean knew something that he wasn't telling her as far as their father was concerned. Speaking of John Winchester, Elle turned and looked at him as he slept in the chair with his mouth hanging open. Did she feel bitterness toward him? Yes. Anger? Of course. Yet here she was still waiting for her daddy to love her…something that would never happen. Waiting for the day that he called her because he had something for just the two of them to take care of. Those were just hopes and dreams that would never be fulfilled because John Winchester was a stubborn ass and would never want anything to do with her.

She was in the middle of questioning herself what she possibly could have wronged him when Sam exited the bathroom, letting her know that he was ready to go. She pulled a stray lock of hair behind her ear before she nodded and quietly followed her brother out of the motel room. Sam tossed her the keys to the Impala, which she didn't catch , letting them land in a puddle which splashed onto her jeans. Elle gave her brother a look of annoyance before she bent over and picked the keys out of the mud, tossing them back at him which he easily caught. She didn't want to drive. Honestly, she really didn't like driving unless she had to…or she was being nice, neither of which applied now. But the thing about Sam was while he often came off being a little more grounded and put together than Dean and herself, he could be just as much of a little shit as the rest of them. He quickly opened the door and slid into the passenger's seat of the Impala. Elle groaned and slid into the backseat, hoping that he would get the hint.

"You're gonna be late for your date," Sam commented.

"It's not a date and I'm not driving," Elle grumbled.

"Then it looks like we're just gonna sit here."

"Saaammm."

"Elllleee."

"C'mon, please?"

"How were you planning on getting there before I decided to come?"

Elle didn't answer him, instead she leaned forward resting her arms on the front seat and her head on her arms before giving Sam her puppy dog eyes and pouty lips. Sam looked at her and told her that he wasn't going to cave, but Elle knew otherwise. Within a minute Sam had given-in and scooted over to the driver's side and then Elle jumped the front seat to sit beside him. He made a comment that she was going to have to drive back, but Elle muttered something to herself that they would see about that which Sam didn't hear. As Sam drove, Elle examined her appearance in the side mirror. Her older brother must have noticed her excess primping because he made a comment that if the guy didn't think she was pretty enough he was going to kick the guy's ass. Elle looked at Sam and rolled her eyes, but in all honesty, she was glad to have a brother who would be willing to do that for her. As they pulled up to the diner Elle had directed Sam to, Elle was focused on not panicking. She was actually going on a date…the first date in god knew how long and she was nervous. Should she be? Probably not, but it was in her nature to over-analyze and to grow nervous over the stupid things.

They got out of the car and walked into the diner. Elle looked around for Tommy, but what shocked her most was that he wasn't alone. No, he was with a girl. He was with Haley. He had brought his sister to their date…just like she had brought her brother. Maybe it wasn't actually a date. Maybe she had read way too much into things. Maybe he didn't actually think of her as anything but a friend. Damnit. She really wanted to bail, so then she quickly tried to dodge behind Sam, but Tommy caught sight of them and he waved them over.

"Isn't that…" Sam started.

"Yep," was all Elle responded.

"Didn't we save him?"

"Yep."

"That's weird. He's here? Wait a minute, Elle…is that who you're going a date with?"

"Maybe…and it's not a date."

"Huh."

"Huh, what?"

"Nothing, just didn't expect to already know the guy."

"You don't know him. You knew him for all of an hour between saving his ass and letting the authorities take over."

Sam shook his head before he walked over toward the table. Elle stood there and groaned as Tommy stood up to shake hands with Sam, as did Haley. Tommy then excitedly motioned her over again. She had no way out of this situation now. While she knew it was probably going to be incredibly awkward, she was glad that she had brought Sam with her, especially with Haley sitting there. Elle uncomfortably pulled at her hair as she walked over to the table. Haley stood up and walked over to Elle and hugged her tightly. Elle hugged the girl back, knowing that they had gotten along fairly well the last time they were together. Haley whispered a thank you to her for finding Tommy before she released her. Tommy stood to get up to welcome her, but Haley slid back in the booth beside her brother, blocking him from doing anything. So, Tommy stood there and waved at Elle who gave a slight smile and a nod of her head before she slid into her booth beside Sam. The waitress had already brought them glasses of water before she and Sam arrived, so Elle took a sip from the cup in front of her.

"So…" Sam started.

"So…" Haley responded.

"How about some food?" Tommy suggested.

"Sounds perfect. I'm starving," Elle quickly answered.

"Me too."

Elle looked up at Tommy who was making eye contact with her. She blushed under his gaze. Tommy reached for the sugar packets and accidentally brushed Elle's hand which was resting on the table. She smiled, trying hard not to laugh as she moved her hand for the sugar packets, keeping eye contact with Tommy. But Sam broke the moment by asking what she needed sugar for. Elle quickly grabbed a couple of packets and dumped them into her glass of water and started stirring.

"Sugar packets in your water? You haven't done that since you were twelve," Sam commented.

"Don't question it," Elle responded.

She lifted the glass up to her mouth and took a sip. She forgot how sweet sugar water tasted. She made a slight look of disgust away from Sam which made Tommy start to laugh which made Sam and Haley look over at them. Elle smiled at them and took another sip of water, forcing the smile to stay on her face as she choked the sweet water down. Why she liked this stuff when she was younger was beyond her. Elle had barely gotten a chance to look at the menu when the waitress came over for their orders. Sam got an egg-white omelet and fruit. Haley ordered pancakes and Tommy said that he was going to have whatever Elle was having. Elle narrowed her eyes at him slightly before proclaiming that she was going to have whatever was their special for the day. The waitress asked how she wanted her eggs: scrambled. Bacon or sausage? Both. Always both. Fruit or breakfast potatoes? Was that even really a question? Potatoes. If there was one thing she had learned from Dean it was how to eat. Elle thought of Dean briefly for a moment. He was going to be pissed if he ever found out that he wasn't invited to this little shindig, but honestly, Elle would much rather deal with the fallout after than during the so-called date.

Sam suddenly jolted upright and then Elle felt a foot smack against her leg. Tommy's eyes widened and Elle couldn't help but chortle when she realized what had happened. Tommy had mistakenly gone for Sam's leg instead of hers. Could this be any more embarrassing or awkward? It was at that moment, that Elle realized that Haley probably invited herself along, much like Sam had and knowing a little about Haley, that scenario made sense. Elle smiled and gently kicked Tommy in the shin before she winked at him which made him shake his head. Elle reached for her water once more, forgetting the sugar packets she had poured in it and took a large gulp of it before she somewhat choked on her water. Sam was about to make a comment to Elle when Tommy interrupted him.

"So Sam—what's new?" Tommy questioned.

"I—uh—not a whole lot, I guess. We're working with our dad on a case," Sam said with a shrug.

"Your dad's an intimidating guy."

"Yeah, he can be a real hardass. Wait a minute, how do you know that?"

"From what Elle's told me. I mean, it's not like he threatened my life at gunpoint or anything," Tommy said sarcastically, but Elle knew he was telling the truth.

"Ha! That's so funny! John Winchester doing something like that? What a joke!" Elle fake laughed.

Sam seemed surprisingly unphased, but it was probably because their food being placed on the table distracted him. Haley looked at Elle and smiled. Elle wasn't entirely sure why, but from then on they had seemingly normal conversation over their meal. It was actually somewhat enjoyable. They talked about somewhat normal things: like the places they had visited, poking fun at the old guy across the diner falling asleep while his wife yapped at him…just normal stuff. So this was normal? Huh. Elle actually enjoyed it. She liked not having to be a damsel in distress. She liked being able to be carefree. But what she liked most of all was that after this demon was gone—normal was actually a possibility. Elle couldn't help but smile at Tommy and Haley must have taken note of that.

"Hey, Sam why don't you come with me to check on that thing," Haley said as she stood up.  
"What thing?" Sam asked quite puzzled before looking to his sister.  
"You know the thing."  
"I still have no idea what you're talking about."  
"Oh my god, you idiot, I thought you told me you were good at reading people."  
"I am."  
"Then come with me so we can give these two a minute alone."  
"Oh. Got that."

"''bout freaking time," Elle muttered.

Sam gave Elle a playful shove and told her to be good as he got out of the booth and walked over to the counter with Haley to pay the bill. Tommy reached his hands across the table and took Elle's hands in his and smiled at her. In the corner of her eye she saw Sam pull his phone out of his pocket, but Tommy squeezed her hands so she focused on him again.

"Let me guess, he invited himself like my sister?" Tommy asked.

"It was either that or have him and Dean stalk us," Elle said.

"Yeah, definitely preferred this over that."

"You might be dead right now if Dean were here."

"Takes after your dad, huh?"

"The difference being Dean actually gives a shit about me."

"Your dad cares about you, I saw it in his eyes."

"Well, then he's got you fooled too. But enough about him. We probably don't have long until Sam and Haley get back."

"You have something important to say?"

"No, I just don't want to spend the little time I have with you talking about my father."

"All right, I can take a hint… unlike your brother."

"Good, that's definitely a plus for you in my book."

"What else do you have in your book about me?"

"If I told you; I'd have to kill you."

"You know, coming from anybody else I'd probably take that as a joke."

"You catch on fast."

Suddenly, a throat cleared beside them. Elle saw Sam standing there holding his phone.

"Elle, Dad called," Sam stated.

"Did you tell him to shove it?" Elle asked innocently.

"He says it's important."

"Usually does."

"It's about you know who."

"Voldemort? Did Rowling give him spoilers? Because that I might actually be interested in."

Sam looked at her pointedly.

"Didn't think so," Elle sighed before looking to Tommy. "Looks like I got to go."

"Can I see you later?" Tommy asked.

Elle looked over at Sam who sighed before nodding his head. She then told Tommy that she would get to see him later before she stood up. Tommy stood up too and quickly hugged Elle under their siblings' watchful eyes. Elle hugged Haley goodbye before she followed Sam out of the diner toward the Impala. They were about halfway to the Impala when Elle heard someone call her name from behind.

"Elle!"

She turned around to see Tommy running out of the diner behind her. A smile slowly spread across her face as he drew closer. When he got to her, he didn't say anything, instead he cupped her cheeks with his hands and kissed her. Elle giggled before she placed her hands on Tommy's shoulders and kissed him back until Sam cleared his throat. She wiped at her lips as they broke apart and smiled at Tommy. She could see herself falling for this guy and his so-called normal life if she gave herself the chance. Sam mentioned something about getting to see Tommy later before he told his little sister to get in the car. Elle quickly kissed Tommy once more before she turned and slid in the front seat beside Sam with a giant smile on her face. She was genuinely happy, something she hadn't experienced in a long time and she had something to look forward to. Maybe being a Winchester didn't suck as much as she thought it did.

"I know you're dying to say something," Elle said.

"Nope. You just look happy, that's all. If this guy makes you happy then I'm happy for you," Sam responded. "Believe it or not, I like seeing you happy."

"You're taking this a lot better than I thought you would."

"I know how short-lived happiness can be, so you should take it where you can get it."

"You're thinking about Jess, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Just be careful, ok?"

"Sam, I don't even know what's going on with Tommy. All I'm being is careful."

"You really should tell Dean though."

"Eventually. I just don't want to tell him prematurely because he's bound to overreact."

"He'll come around if you're serious about this."

"This is all new to me. I'm not the relationship or love guru like you two. Let me figure things out first?"

"Fine, but if Dean finds out before you get a chance to tell him, don't say I didn't warn you."

Elle nodded her head knowing that he was right, but that didn't mean she was telling Dean about Tommy any time soon. The remainder of the car ride was rather silent. When they got back to the motel, Dean and their father were already up and waiting for them at the table. Elle slightly cringed. They were bound to be curious and at least Dean was.

"Where have you two been?" Dean asked.

"Eating breakfast," Sam said.

"Dude, why didn't you wake me up?"

"We tried man, but your lazy ass never got up."

"Huh."

Dean shrugged his shoulders, buying the lie Sam fed him. Elle breathed a sigh of relief that Dean wasn't going to question things further as she closed the door behind her. She was surprised to see the room covered in research. The walls were covered with paper: information on the son-of-a-bitch, weather charts, hieroglyphics, pictures, newspaper articles, and notes in John's scrawl. There were a stack of books on the dresser and stacks of papers strewn across the table where the Colt also sat.

"Someone was busy," Elle commented.

"What exactly is it?" Sam asked.

"This is it. It's everything I know about this son-of-a-bitch. Look for most of your lives we have been searching for this demon, right? Not a trace, just…nothing. Until about a year ago. For the first time I picked up a trail," John responded.

"And that's when you took off," Dean stated.

"Yeah, that's right. The demon must've come out of hiding or hibernation."

"Why didn't you tell us all this yesterday?" Elle questioned.

"It just didn't feel right," John responded. "You kids deserved a day of rest before we dive headlong into this mess."

"All right, so what's this trail you found?" Dean questioned, getting them back on track.

"It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California…houses burned down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us."

"Families with infants?" Sam questioned.

"Yeah, the night of the kid's sixth-month birthday."

"I was six months old that night?"

"Exactly six months."

"So basically this demon is going after these kids for some reason. The same way if came for me? So Mom's death…Jessica. It's all because of me?"

Elle mentally noted that Sam left her off his list. While she may be there now, she should be on his list. She did die that night in Lawrence. Yet for some reason unknown to her something pulled her from the fire, so to speak. Dean argued with Sam that they didn't know it was his fault, but Sam wasn't having any of it. Elle kept her mouth shut because for a flicker of a second, Elle did wonder if it was Sam's fault before she figured that it was just as much her fault. Things got rather heated between Sam and Dean causing John to have to intervene.

"Okay, that's enough!" John said standing and separating the boys.

"Yeah boys," Elle retorted.

"The peanut gallery isn't necessary."

"Whatever."

Sam shook his arms and took a deep breath to calm himself before he spoke again.

"So why's it doing this? What does it want?" Sam questioned.

"Look, I wish I had more answers, I do," John responded. "I've always been one step behind it. Look, I've never gotten there in time to save…"

John got silent and he almost appeared as if he were actually experiencing emotions.

"But there's one thing that made our family different that night," John stated.

"What?" Dean asked.

John looked over to Elle.

"There are no records of the mother being with child during the time of the attack," John grumbled. "Campbell is the only one in her—um—situation."

"So what? It's my fault now? Is that what you're saying?" Elle hissed. "You pull Sam out from under the bus just to throw me under it instead?"

"He didn't say that," Dean argued.

"It sure sounded like that."

"He's just saying that you were a game changer. He doesn't know why or how, but there was something about you that changed this. Now, how do we find this thing before it hits again?"

"Sure, let's change the subject."

"There are signs," John started. "It took me a while to see the pattern, but it's there in the days before these fires in an area. Cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations, electrical storms. Then I went back and checked and…"

"These things happened in Lawrence," Dean commented.

"A week before your mother died. Then again in Palo Alto…before Jessica. And these signs they're starting again?"

"Where?" the three Winchester children asked simultaneously.

"Salvation, Iowa."

"Not Iowa…" Elle groaned. "I ha—"

"You hate Iowa, we know," Dean interrupted. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as we can get our stuff packed up," John stated.

Sam and Dean gave him a yes, sir, but Elle looked at Sam incredulously. He had promised her that she would be able to see Tommy later. She tried to confront her brother about it, but he just told her that while he felt bad, this job—the job above all other jobs came before her love life. She understood what he was saying, but it didn't make it any easier to hear. She slowly packed her things. When she walked outside, she looked between her father's truck and the Impala and smirked. She had an idea. Granted, she was going to have to take one for the team and willingly subject herself to John Winchester's company, but it just might work. Elle hopped into her father's truck and sat there and waited for him. Both of her brothers looked at her in confusion as to what she was doing—but she didn't give them the attention they wanted. Instead, she pulled her Gameboy out and played with it until her father got in and started the truck. He pulled out onto the road before he looked at his daughter.

"What do you want, Campbell?" John questioned. "You obviously want something. I can read you like a book."

"Look, we need to make a stop before heading out of town," Elle stated. "I need to stop by Tommy's motel for a minute."

"That wasn't part of our deal, Campbell," John grunted.

"Well I'm changing the deal, John. Taking a page from your book. Deal with it."

"No."

Elle pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed her speed dial contact for number two. She held the phone up to her ear and looked over to her father who shook his head.

"You're bluffing," John scoffed.

"Am I? Hi, Dean," Elle said sweetly. "Dad has something he wants to tell you."

Elle hit the speakerphone button.

"Dad?" Dean's voice came from the phone.

John looked over at Elle who gave him a look of absolute defiance. She knew she had the upperhand in this situation—something that rarely if ever happened. John exhaled and narrowed his eyes at the road before he spoke.

"I—I need to stop to get some gas before we get out of town. You and Sammy keep going. We'll catch up with you later."

"Yes, sir," Dean responded before the phone clicked to end the conversation.

"Don't you ever do that to me again," John hissed.

"Hey, I learned the art form from you," Elle scoffed. "Really, you should be flattered."

Elle looked over at her father who took a glance over at her before he turned his attention back to the road. He turned into a gas station as Sam and Dean passed them before he doubled-back in the direction of Tommy's motel. John slowly pulled into the parking lot. Oddly enough, he remembered the exact room Tommy stayed in. This fact struck a chord with Elle, but she didn't say anything. Almost immediately after John put the truck into park, Elle hopped out of the vehicle.

"You have one minute before I go in there and shoot him," John grumbled.

"I'll take as long as I freaking please," Elle retorted.

With a flip of her hair, Elle walked to Tommy's motel room door. She knocked twice and waited for an answer—but there wasn't one. She knocked again and called his name, but he never came. Elle looked at the door with a disgruntled expression before she walked over to peek through the window. She didn't see that anyone was home, but John was growing impatient as he honked his horn at her. Elle held up a finger to give her a minute as she pulled her phone out of her pocket once more. She had to get this out now or she was probably never going to do it. She found Tommy's name and hit the call button. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Eventually, she ended up with his voicemail.

"Hey you've reached Tommy Collins, leave a message or something."

Beep. Elle hesitated for a second as she ran her fingers through her hair.

"Hey—it's Elle, obviously. I—uh—I swung by your motel room and you weren't here meaning that you're probably doing something with Haley. Which is totally cool, by the way. But I—uh—I'm leaving town for a bit with my family. It's big—life changing stuff. So I just need to get this out. You don't have to respond or anything, but I want you to know that I know this has moved fast but—but I really like you. Like really like you. And I wanted to tell you that when I get back, things are going to be different. And I hope that when I get back you will be there waiting for me. Oh god, that was probably extremely cheesy, but there it is. Oh boy, there it is. So yeah. Bye."

Elle hit the end button before she exhaled out loud. She couldn't believe she had just done that. She never did stuff like that. And of course, she probably made a complete fool of herself in the process. John honked the horn again and called for her to get back in the car. Elle gave him the gesture usually reserved for him: the middle finger, before she walked back to the truck. She slowly got inside and said nothing as John watched her.

"Was that really worth it?" John questioned.

"It annoyed you, so that's a small win in my book," Elle retorted.

John didn't say anything. Instead, he just peeled out of the parking lot. Surprisingly, it wasn't long before they caught up to Sam and Dean in the Impala. Elle played Pokémon as Dean motioned with his hand for John to pass him. John quickly passed the Impala and as they drove by, Elle made a funny face at Sam and Dean who returned the favor. She chuckled before returning her glance to her Gameboy. They continued to drive down the misty highway for a while before John's phone began to ring.

"Who is it?" John asked.

"Caleb," Elle responded as she picked his phone off the dash.

"Answer it."

"Why?"

"Goddamnit Campbell, just do it."

"You didn't say…"

"Please."

Elle rolled her eyes before she answered the phone.

"Hey, Caleb," Elle answered. "What's up?"

"Elle is that you?" the voice asked.

"Not unless you know of another girl in John Winchester's life."

"I—uh—can you put your daddy on the phone?"

Elle pulled the phone away from her ear and held it out toward her father.

"It's for you."

"It is my phone."

John picked up the phone and Elle leaned forward to grab her Gameboy when the car suddenly swerved to the side of the road, causing Elle to hit her head against the dash. This was why she didn't ride with her father—well, that and the fact that she couldn't stand the man. Elle was about to yell at her father when she looked to him and she saw that he had his eyes closed, phone clutched in his hand, and was practically shaking in anger. She hesitated—anger wasn't going to help. She was almost frightened.

"Dad?" Elle whispered. "What is it?"

"Jim Murphy's dead."

Without another word, John jumped out of the truck and walked back toward Sam and Dean. Elle sat there quietly for a moment. Pastor Jim was dead. She couldn't fully process the thought. It wasn't possible. He couldn't be dead. The man who had frequently taken care of them when they were little: gone. He had always been nice and caring to her. He had been respectful of the fact that she was a child, but knew to tell her just enough to keep her safe. The man was practically a saint to put up with John Winchester and his B.S. But she wanted more information. She jumped out of the car to hear what her father was telling the boys. She got outside just as he was telling Sam and Dean how Pastor Jim's throat was slashed and he bled out. But Caleb had apparently found traces of sulfur on the scene. It could mean only one thing…

"A demon?" Dean questioned. "How the hell can a demon stand on hallowed ground?"

"The Demon?" Elle asked making herself visible.

"I don't know," John sighed. "Maybe Jim just got careless and he slipped up."

"That doesn't sound like Pastor Jim," Sam responded. "Maybe this thing knows we're getting close."

"So what do we do?" Dean asked.

"Now we act like every second counts. There are two hospitals and a health care center in this county. We split up and cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that's going to be six months old in the next week," John furthered.

"That's insane!" Elle argued.

"Dad, what she means to say is that that could be dozens of kids. How do we know which one's the right one?" Sam asked.

"We check 'em all that's how. Split them between the four of us. Unless either of you got any better ideas," John said sternly.

"No sir."

"Campbell?"

"I just said it was insane. I never said I wouldn't do it," Elle retorted.

John nodded his head at them and they all turned to head back to their respective cars. The Winchester patriarch suddenly stopped and leaned against the bed of his truck—emotions clearly visible on his face. Despite whatever feelings Elle had toward the guy, she couldn't exactly turn off her empathy switch. She knew how he was hurting because she hurt too. Then she did something that surprised herself. She slowly walked over to her father and gently touched his arm.

"Dad," Elle whispered once more.

"This ends now. I'm ending it and I don't care what it takes," John grunted.

"Ok."

"Go get your shit out of my car and ride with your brothers. You got what you wanted from me."

Elle hesitated for a second.

"I said go, Campbell! I don't need or want you in my vehicle."

He then removed her hand from his arm and turned his back on her. A furious Elle called her father an ass before she marched and grabbed her stuff out of the truck. She hated being empathetic sometimes because it just led to her getting hurt—especially by her father. She thought that maybe—maybe he was going to finally come around, but she kept hoping and hoping and was repeatedly shot down. She was sick of his shit. The sooner that this was done—the sooner she was rid of John Winchester from her life.

Elle roughly wiped at her stinging eyes as she yanked her stuff out of the truck and headed back to the Impala. Dean met her with a looked that read what did you do now, but Elle refused to say anything. Instead she just climbed into the backseat and buried her face in the pillow she kept back there. Sam turned around as Dean started the car.

"I saw what happened. You didn't do anything wrong," Sam whispered.

"But why does it always feel like I did? Why does he always make me feel like crap?" Elle questioned.

"You're asking the wrong person to explain John Winchester to you. I'm the one that got so fed up with the guy that I left."

"Slap me or something next time I decide to trust him. I should know better than to be such an idiot. I fall for it every time."

"You're not an idiot. You just have hope that people can change. That's not a bad thing."

"And then Pastor Jim…" Elle began to sob.

"I know, Elle-Belle."

"I just feel so conflicted about everything," Elle groaned.

"Maybe you should sing about your favorite things cuz then you won't feel so bad," Dean commented.

Elle quickly sat up and stared at Dean intently.

"Did you just make a Sound of Music joke?" Elle questioned.

"I was at all your friggin' performances and I put up with all your singing in the shower," Dean said. "If that doesn't show how much I love you then I don't know what does."

"Gummy worms might help."

Dean turned around and looked at her pointedly.

"What? They're one of my favorite things," Elle retorted. "Do you need me to sing about them? I can. Raindrops on gummy worms make them dissolve. Bright colors, something something, whiskers I don't know. Don't eat the brown ones they're real worms you see. Gummy worms are one of my favorite things…"

"Make it stop," Sam joked putting his hands to his ears.

"You really want them?" Dean questioned.

Elle slowly nodded her head before Dean muttered something about being right on the things' trail and needing to stop for gummy worms of all things. But he still stopped for her. Surprisingly, their father didn't call them to question what they were doing—or maybe he didn't really care. Either way, it was fine with Elle because John Winchester was the last person on earth she wanted to spend time with. Hell, even this freaking demon seemed preferable to her father—and that was saying a lot. After Elle got her sour gummy worms and a bottle of Dr. Pepper, Dean drove to the Salvation Medical Center and parked in the parking lot.

"Who wants this one?" Dean asked.

"I'll take it," Sam responded.

"Elle you staying with Sammy or coming with me?"

"I—uh—I'll stay with Sam," Elle said.

Dean looked at Elle, somewhat confused. She usually never chose Sam over him. But Elle didn't look back at him. Instead, she slung her shoulder bag on and followed Sam inside the hospital. Dean watched his younger siblings head inside before he peeled out of the parking lot. Elle somewhat followed behind Sam inside because his stride was so much longer than hers—that it was hard to keep up. Elle turned to take one last look at the Impala just leaving the lot.

"You're punishing him, aren't you?" Sam questioned.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Elle retorted.

"You're punishing Dean for siding with Dad since he came back. You should remember, he did buy you gummy worms."

"Whoa, you're reading way too much into things. I was just feeling a little car sick and didn't want to sit in the car for another hour."

"Huh."

"It's true. Speaking of which, I may need to make a mad dash to the bathroom."

"Car sick my ass," Sam chuckled. "You had too much friggin' sugar."

"There's no such thing. Winchesters are built Ford tough. Hold that thought."

Sam chuckled as Elle burst into a sprint to the nearest bathroom. She emerged wiping at her mouth with her hair now pulled back into a messy bun. She raised her eyebrows at her brother who waited across the hallway leaning against the wall for her. She walked toward and him and took a drink from the drinking fountain.

"Ford tough, huh?"

"A little puke never hurt anybody. Besides, I feel better now. Let's go get this over so we can get this son-of-a-bitch."

"Who are you and what have you done with my little sister?"

"You're not the only one who's connected to this thing. As much as I dislike the guy, Dad's right about one thing: this ends now."

"We don't know that you're involved in this."

"Dad thinks so."

"Well, Dad's a jerk in case you haven't noticed."

"While I agree with the sentiment, you're not going to persuade me that I'm not involved. Sure, you might've been the reason the thing showed up—but I died that night, Sam. I died. And yet here I am. Some sort of freaking miracle that no one can explain. I want some answers just as much as I want to kill the son-of-a-bitch and I plan on getting both. So come on."

Sam stood there for a moment still quite dumbfounded. Elle had never been a leader in their hunt. No, she had usually done what she was told, albeit with an attitude, or she followed. Seeing his sister take charge in something seemed like it was a good change. She had drive, but Sam wasn't quite sure what for though. There was something that she wasn't vocalizing to them, but he wasn't going to press at this moment, because Elle was already at the desk talking to the receptionist with her fake ID whipped out.

"Sorry about him," Elle told the receptionist. "He was in the little boys' room. This one has the bladder of a goldfish. But enough about my partner, we were hoping to search through your records for any babies around six months of age. It appears that we have us a case of mistaken identity coming from this hospital—something about the babies being switched at some point. We want to make sure that everything is ship shape. Otherwise legal actions might be necessary from not only the affected families."

Elle raised her eyebrows at the woman for emphasis. The woman slowly got off her chair and walked to find someone to talk to. Elle rolled her eyes as she leaned against the counter to wait. Sam took a few steps closer to his sister. He glanced for a moment to see a stack of magazines behind the desk before he turned to Elle.

"Switched at birth? Really? Do you know how risky that is?" Sam questioned.

"The woman has a Soap Opera Digest magazine with that story the cover," Elle said with a shrug. "Just had a gut feeling she'd buy it."

"Hey, I get that you want to get his done and over with—I do. But now isn't the time to go off book taking big risks," Sam said.

"Actually, it seems like the perfect time."

"Right this way, officers," a nurse said coming out to show them the way with the receptionist returning to her seat.

Elle nudged Sam as they followed behind the nurse.

"Score one for Elle," Elle whispered to her brother.

"Don't get cocky," Sam responded.

"That would be impossible considering I don't even have that appendage."

Sam shook his head at his sister's comment before the nurse led them into a filing room. She showed Sam and Elle where they could find the files they were looking for, before she went back to get any records that might possibly be in pediatrics. Sam thanked the woman and Elle immediately dug into the files for birth certificates. For a moment, Elle realized that she never had a real birth certificate. She only had forgeries. So in reality, she didn't exist—well, at least not to the United States government. But she quickly tried to shake off any of thoughts. They had a job they needed to get done, so that she could get started living the life she always wanted but was too scared to live.

Any birth certificates that fit the parameters they had set, Elle handed to Sam who copied down the information into his notebook. They had found nine babies that were turning six months within the next week. Most of the babies still lived within walking distance to the hospital, so Elle and Sam decided that they would go check some of these people out on foot. Elle called Dean to let him know what they were up to, but he didn't answer his phone. So, Sam and Elle left the Medical Center together. Sam handed Elle the notebook of the babies that matched up before he got tense and began to clutch at his head. Elle stopped to look at her brother who appeared to be in pain. She called his name and wrapped an arm around him as he leaned heavily against her. She knew that he was having one of his visions. With his weight leaning heavily against her she attempted to walk him to the nearest bench where she practically collapsed under her older brother's weight. When Sam finally came back to reality, Elle looked at him with concern.

"What'd you see?" Elle asked.

"The demon," Sam grumbled.

"Meaning that we're close."

"We've got to be. Let me see that map."

Elle handed Sam the map that was stuffed between the pages of the notebook.

"Here, let's start here," Sam said.

"Aye, aye, captain," Elle responded.

Sam and Elle headed for the park Sam pointed out on the map. They slowly walked through the park as Elle looked for the house of the baby that lived nearby. As they drew closer to the edge of the park, Sam started clutching at his head again. Elle slapped at his face, but his vision didn't last long. When he was fully lucid, Sam pointed across the street to a woman pushing a stroller while holding an umbrella up with bags of groceries on her arms.

"That's her," Sam said. "She's the one."

"Define the one," Elle teased.

"Elle."

"All right, all right, let's go talk to her then. Make sure you're intel is accurate, not that it's been wrong or anything."

Elle wrapped her leather jacket a little tighter around her body as she motioned to cross the street. For being summer, this place was awfully chilly. But that was supposed to be one of the signs of this thing, right? Temperature change. Elle shivered for a second as she got closer to the woman before looking back at her brother. She nodded toward the lady and Sam nodded his head back. Elle then purposely ran into the woman with her shoulder, causing a bag of groceries to go flying from the woman's arms and onto the sidewalk.

"Oh my god! I am so sorry!" Elle gushed.

"I—it's fine. It wasn't the eggs," the woman said.

"I am such a klutz sometimes."

"Yeah, but you could've at least helped the woman pick her groceries up," Sam commented from the ground as he put the groceries back in the woman's bags.

"But that's what I have you for—to pick up my messes," Elle retorted.

The woman chuckled for a moment before Sam stood up and handed the bag of groceries back to her as Elle moved closer to the baby in the stroller.

"Oh my gosh, this baby is so adorable," Elle cooed. "Is she yours?"

"Yeah," the woman said. "Do you two have any?"

"Any what?" Sam questioned.

"Kids."

"Oh hell no!" Elle said. "This lug is my brother."

"Excuse my sister's manners," Sam apologized. "I'm Sam and this is my sister Elle. We moved in up the block."

"Hi, I'm Monica and I'm so sorry for just assuming you two were together," the woman said. "And this is Rosie."

"Rosie? That's a beautiful name," Elle commented.

"Hi, Rosie," Sam cooed over the stroller.

"So anyway, welcome to the neighborhood Sam and Elle, who are not a couple," Monica responded.

"Thanks," Elle said with a smile.

"Yeah, thanks," Sam responded.

Sam then put his finger out for Rosie to grab, which she happily did. He commented about how good of a baby Rosie was when Monica mentioned that she was always good—like she could read minds. Elle looked to Sam suspiciously. Could it be possible? Sam continued to question the woman, finding out that they had only been in their house since a little before Rosie was born and that she was exactly six months today. That was an immediate red flag to Elle who nudged Sam. Sam told the woman to take care of herself before Monica walked away toward the station wagon that was parking in the driveway. Elle pulled out her phone to call Dean when Sam reached for his head.

"Not again," Elle groaned.

She wrapped her arm around Sam's waist and slung his arm around her shoulder as she walked over to a wall out of sight to lean Sam against. After a few minutes, Sam went back to being relaxed and Elle handed him the water bottle from her shoulder bag.

"It's Rosie," Sam breathed after he took a sip of water. "He's going after her. Tonight. The same shit is going to happen if we don't stop it."

"Sam, we can handle this. You, me, Dean…we got this," Elle responded.

"And Dad."

"Him too, I guess. Just this one last time."

Knowing that Sam must be somewhat exhausted from his visions, Elle decided to find the closest motel for him to rest at. Elle was the one to rent the room as Sam rested on the couch in the office with his head in his hands. It was obvious that he was frustrated, but when they got to the room, Elle told him to sleep it off while she called Dean. Within an hour and a half, the two other Winchester men found their way to the motel. Dean and John got to the motel at almost the same time, but John was the first one to burst through the door.

"What the hell happened?" John hissed.

"Sam had one of his visions," Elle commented. "We know who this thing is going after next."

"A vision?" John questioned flatly.

"Yeah," Sam said sitting up. "I saw the demon burning woman on the ceiling."

"And you think this is going to happen to this woman you met because…"

"Because these things happen exactly the way I see them."

"He hasn't been wrong so far," Elle commented.

"They started out as nightmares, then it started happening while he was awake," Dean added.

"Yeah," Sam said wincing. "Like the closer I get to anything having to do with the demon, the stronger the vision gets."

"And why wasn't I informed of this?" John questioned. "I think I would like to know if my son is having visions."

"Elle has them too!" Sam pointed out.

Elle's mouth gaped open. How could he possibly know about her dreams?

"I do not!" Elle hissed.

"You talk in your sleep," Sam commented. "Not to mention that you get all tense."

"They're simple nightmares, not visions. They don't mean anything. It—it's completely different."

"That's how they started for me."

"Mine are different. Believe me."

"Why should we?" Dean questioned. "You haven't exactly shared anything about them."

"Because I can't," Elle said staring straight at her father.

"Now Dean, something like this starts happening to your brother and sister, you pick up the phone and call me," John stated.

"Call you? Are you kidding me? Dad, I called you from Lawrence all right? I'm pretty damn sure you got a phone call when I was dying. I mean getting you on the phone? I got a better chance of winning the lottery," Dean argued.

"A better chance at being touched by an angel," Elle scoffed which caused John's head to practically spin to stare right at his youngest. "What?"

"You guys are right," John said slowly. "Although, Dean, I'm not too crazy about this new tone of yours, you're right and I'm sorry."

"So you give him an apology for being pissy for a moment but you can't apologize to me for being an inconsiderate ass my entire life? Gee—nice to see where I rank," Elle said shaking her head.

John looked like he wanted to say something but instead he muttered forget it. Sam then stood up and ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling slowly. He made a little speech about not letting any other family go through what they had gone through and all the Winchesters agreed with him. Not one of them wanted someone else to lead the life they did. Elle plopped onto the bed Sam had been sitting on when Sam's phone rang. Sam looked at the number on the phone but didn't recognize it.

"Hello? Sam asked. "Who is this?"

There was a moment of silence as the other Winchesters watched him.

"Meg."

"Like, Llama Bitch, Meg?" Elle asked.

Sam nodded his head. Elle practically flew off the bed and stole the phone from Sam's hand. Sam tried to take it back, but she ducked under a table because she was small enough to hide there from Sam.

"What the hell do you want Llama Bitch?" Elle questioned.

"You interrupted my friendly conversation with your brother with that dirty mouth of yours," Meg's voice responded.

"Well you interrupted my life by not being dead. Beggars can't be choosers, Llama Bitch."

"As delightful as this has been, I want to talk to Daddy."

"What makes you think that I am anywhere near John Winchester?"

"If you want to see Tommy Collins in one piece again, you'll hand the phone over to Johnny-Boy, baby Winchester."

"How do you know about…" Elle gasped.

"That's my little secret. You have ten seconds to hand it over to Daddy. Ten…nine…"

Elle quickly got out from underneath the table and tossed the phone over to her father. Thankfully, he answered it. Tommy should be safe…for now. Elle could hardly focus on John's end of the conversation. Instead, her thoughts turned to Tommy. Did Llama Bitch really know what she was talking about? Was Tommy in harm's way? She pulled her phone out to call him. At the first ring, she heard John shouting Caleb's name. Second ring, John hissed that he was going to kill Llama Bitch, which Elle was fine with. But Elle had a gut feeling that given John's reaction, Caleb was dead. One by one, those closest to the Winchesters were dropping like flies. She had to be sure about Tommy. By the time Elle got to Tommy's voicemail again, John was saying something about bringing the Colt, but she didn't pay much more attention than that.

"Why don't you answer your phone?" Elle grumbled as her message. "This is important."

Elle hung up her phone and crawled over to one of the beds. She pulled herself onto it, her thoughts still focused on Tommy. What if she had dragged him in this mess only to get him killed? He needed to be ok. He needed to be ok so that she could be ok. He needed to be ok so that she could be normal. John Winchester sat down in a chair and Dean sat down on the bed across from him beside Elle's feet.

"Caleb?" Dean asked.

"Gone, like Jim," John groaned.

"Stupid Llama Bitch," Elle shouted into the pillow before rolling onto her back. "I didn't know it was possible to hate someone more than…"

Sam coughed, interrupting his little sister.

"So what do we do about Llama Bitch?" Elle questioned with a sigh.

"I'm going to Lincoln," John said. "Alone."

"What?" Dean asked sitting a little more upright.

"You heard me. It doesn't look like we really have a choice. If I don't go, a lot of people will die…our friends and other important people."

"But Dad, the demon is coming tonight," Sam argued. "For Monica and her family. That gun is all we got, you can't just hand it over."

"Sam's right," Elle said. "We need that gun here. Tonight. And I won't let you ruin this for me like you have everything else."

"Hang on a second, who said anything about handing it over?" John responded. "Look besides the four of us and a couple of vamps, no one has really seen the gun, no one knows what it looks like."

"So what? You're just going to pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?" Dean questioned.

"Antique store, actually."

"Because the fact of where you buy the fake makes such a difference," Elle retorted sarcastically.

"Elle, let's be serious for a second," Dean said. "Dad, you can't seriously plan on handing Llama Bitch a fake gun and hope that she doesn't notice."

"Look, as long as it's close, she shouldn't be able to tell the difference," John responded.

"Yeah, but for how long? What happens when she figures it out?"

"Dean—I just—I just need to buy a few hours, that's all."

"You mean for Dean, Elle, and me? You want us to stay here and kill this thing by ourselves?" Sam questioned.

"No, Sam, it's not what I want, but it looks like it's how it has to be. I want to stop losing people we love," John started. "I want you to go to school. I want Dean to have a home. I want Elle to…I want—I want Mary alive. I just want this all to be over."

"We all want that, in case you haven't noticed," Elle retorted.

Both Sam and Dean gave Elle a pointed look to which she responded by flipping over and burying her face in the pillow. It was decided that Dean would go buy the Colt look-alike. He asked Elle to go with him, but she told her oldest brother that she would much rather take a nap before the nights' activities. Dean wasn't entirely sure how to read his little sister's response. She usually done everything with him and yet for some reason he didn't understand why she was suddenly pulling away from him. When this whole demon thing was done, Dean told himself that he was going to get down to the bottom of this Elle thing.

Elle didn't get much of a nap before Sam, John, and Elle piled into John's truck to meet Dean at a discreet location. Elle got stuck in the middle between her father and brother because she was smallest and would easily fit there. She purposely sat more on Sam's side, despite his pushing her back toward the middle. She smacked at Sam and John grumbled for the two of them to stop it, much like they were little children. Elle almost regretted napping instead of going with Dean to get a look alike gun. Almost.

When the truck finally came to a stop, it was at the end of a muddy dirt road in an abandoned field. Elle practically crawled over Sam to escape, but Sam pushed her back so he could get out first. Was she being childish? Yes, but being around John Winchester tended to do that to her. When Elle finally got out of the truck, she sat beneath a tree and pulled her out sketchbook and pencil. Despite the looming sense of dread and failure in the air, the scene was rather picturesque. She sketched the bridge in the background, the field, and John's truck. She purposely left her father out of the scene even though he was in her current viewpoint going through his stash of weapons with Sam. They were probably having some sort of father/son bonding moment, which slightly rattled her. Death was a very good possibility for a Winchester tonight and yet John continued to ignore her. To be honest, Elle was rather relieved when the Impala pulled up from the muddy dirty road. With Dean now there, it meant getting rid of the man she called father.

"You got it?" John asked Den who exited the car.

Dean pulled a paper bag out of his leather jacket and handed it to his father. John pulled the gun out and examined it. He shrugged—as if he were saying close enough. Elle rolled her eyes and snatched the gun from his hand, leaving John with a look of surprise on his face.

"What are you gonna do? Shoot me?" John scoffed.

"Not yet," Elle muttered.

Elle pulled out a pocketknife from her shoulder bag and then asked for the real Colt.

"Why?" Dean questioned. "You gonna shoot our old man with the real one?"

"Oh my god," Elle groaned. "I was just going to put the freaking symbols onto the fake one. You know, to make it look more authentic. Jeez."

"Oh."

"Just give me the gun and then go screw yourself."

"I wish."

Elle rolled her eyes at her brother as he handed over the real Colt. She muttered her thanks before she began carving the symbols into the fake. Of course they didn't think about the details. Besides, the old saying went that the devil was in the details. Well, she was covering her ass. The more time she could buy for John, the more time she could buy for herself and her brothers. It wasn't about John; it was about her own ass. Or at least that's what she told herself.

"You know this is a…" Dean started.

"I think we all realized this was a trap a while ago," Elle interrupted as she etched into the gun. "You can't trust someone named Llama Bitch."

"You're the one who named her that…when you were drunk," Sam said shaking his head.

"Drunk me has an awesome sense of judgment."

"Dad, we can't just let you walk into this," Dean argued.

"I can handle this so-called Llama Bitch," John said. "I got a whole arsenal loaded. Holy water, Mandaic, amulets…"

"Hey, Llama Bitch is my thing. Find your own nickname," Elle muttered.

"Dad…" Dean sighed.

"What?" John questioned.

"Promise me something."

"What's that?"

"This thing goes south…just get the hell out. Call one of us or something. Don't get yourself killed, all right? You're no good to us dead."

"Same goes for you…all three of you."

Elle's eyes flickered up to her father from the symbol she had just finished etching into the gun.

"All right, ya'll listen to me. They made special bullets for this Colt. There's only four of them left and without them, this gun is useless. You make every shot count."

"Yes, sir," Sam responded.

"So in other words don't give the gun to Elle," Dean teased.

"You shut your mouth. I'm the one with two guns in my hands right now," Elle retorted.

"We've been waiting a long time for this fight," John continued. "Now it's here and I'm not gonna be in it. It's up to you three now. It's your fight, you finish this. You finish what I started. Understand?"

Sam and Dean both nodded their heads as Elle awkwardly brought both of the guns back over to John. John handed the real gun over to Dean before he pocketed the look alike. Then for a moment, the Winchesters stood there in silence, unsure of what to say to each other. What exactly was one supposed to say in this situation?

"We'll see you soon, Dad," Sam said before he hugged his father.

"I'll see you kids later," John said.

He patted Sam on the shoulder before he reached out and grabbed one of Elle's arms. She turned to look at him in confusion. John could barely stand to look at his daughter with the look of hurt and pain in her eyes. It was almost done, he told himself. He had hope and so he broke from his normal façade for only a moment.

"Elle, when this is all done—you and me, we need to have us a talk."

"Yeah, whatever," Elle scoffed.

Elle brushed his hand from her arm and walked back toward the Impala. John looked like he wanted to say more, but Dean interrupted him. John sighed before he walked toward his truck, looking back at his children once more. He watched as Elle crawled into the car and Sam and Dean stood near the car waving. John gave them a nod before he put the truck in gear and drove away, headed toward Lincoln.

The Winchester siblings were outside Monica and Rosie's house before the sunset. They sat in the car waiting for a something…anything to happen. The family was easily visible through the window eating dinner. The boys sat in the front talking while Elle played her Pokémon game when the battery suddenly died on her and she didn't even get a chance to save her game.

"Oh come on," Elle groaned. "You've got to be kidding me! I was almost through that freaking gym!"

"Well now you can get your head in the game," Dean commented.

"My head was in the game."

"Elle, we need to be on top of things tonight."

"You think I don't know that? It's the waiting part that drives me crazy. We should just get this done and over with."

"Maybe we could tell 'em it was a gas leak," Sam suggested. "Might get 'em out of the house for a few hours."

"And how many times has that actually worked for us?" Dean chuckled.

"I think it worked once," Elle said leaning her head forward against the front seat. "But Sammy wasn't with us."

"Of course I wasn't," Sam said shaking his head. "You know, maybe we could always tell 'em the truth."

The three Winchesters looked to each other.

"Nah!" they all said together.

Sam and Dean continued talking about what was waiting for this family…and what would happen if they didn't succeed. Elle felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She pulled it out and breathed a sigh of relief.

Hey, sorry my phone died. I just wanted to tell you that I'm not going anywhere. –Tommy

Just please stay safe. –Elle

You too. –Tommy

Dean turned around and looked at his sister quizzically.

"Who the hell are you texting?" Dean questioned.

"Batman," Elle said sarcastically.

Dean reached to grab Elle's phone, but Sam intervened.

"Dude, later," Sam said.

"Yeah, you're right," Dean commented as he turned to face the front again. "I won't forget it."

"I wonder how Dad's doing?" Sam asked changing the subject.

"I'd feel a lot better if we were there backing him up."

"I'd feel a lot better if he were here backing us up."

"I'd feel better if we stopped talking about John Winchester," Elle added.

Sam and Dean both turned around to look at their little sister.

"But I understand what you're saying," Elle finished with a sigh. "Even I can't deny that he's a damn good hunter and would be an asset to our current situation. But don't you take that as meaning anything else. Got it?"

"Whatever you say," Dean said shaking his head.

Elle fell back against her seat and sighed. This was going to be one long night. She picked up her stuffed Tigger and played with his tail in between her fingers. Elle began to make popping noises with her mouth, but Dean told her to knock it off. She slid down the seat so that she was laying down lengthwise on the backseat.

"I'm so bored," Elle groaned.

"It'll be over soon enough," Dean said.

"Which is kinda weird," Sam added.

"What's so weird about it?"

"After all these years, we're finally here and it doesn't really seem real."

"We just gotta keep our heads and do our job, like always."

"But this one isn't like always," Elle added. "This one…it's gonna be life-altering."

"True."

"Dean, Elle—uh—I wanna thank you both," Sam interrupted.

"For what?" Dean questioned.

"Don't interrupt him, this is a once in a lifetime moment," Elle said sarcastically.

"Ha-ha," Sam started. "But really, I mean it: thank you. You've both always had my back, you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone I could always count on you two—even when you might not have been my biggest fans. And—uh—I don't know, I just wanted to let you both know—just in case."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, are you kidding me?" Dean questioned.

"What?"

"Don't say just in case something happens to you. I don't wanna hear that freaking speech man and I sure as hell don't want one from you either Elle. Nobody's dying tonight. Not us, not that family, nobody. Except that demon. That evil son-of-a-bitch ain't getting older than tonight, you understand me?"

"Hey, I want that thing just as dead as you do." Elle agreed. "But… since we're in the sharing mood… I've decided that tonight is going to be my last hunt. After this, I'm done."

"What?" Dean questioned again.

"You heard me. I'm getting out. Dean, I think we've always known that this life isn't for me."

"I don't wanna hear that either and I refuse to accept it. This thing isn't going to split up our family, not again."

"Dean," Elle sighed.

"No, this isn't up for discussion. You're staying with your family and that's that."

Elle kept her mouth shut. She didn't need to distract Dean more than she already had from what they were trying to do tonight. She didn't know why she even said anything—it just kinda slipped out. Elle buried her face in her pillow. How could she have been so stupid to let that slip out? She shouldn't have even said anything. Granted, she was being honest, but now she felt guilty. Dean wasn't going to let her go, but yet she had planned on leaving without even telling him. She was a terrible excuse for a sister and right now, she knew it.

Trying to distract himself from Elle's confession, he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and dialed John's number, but he didn't answer. Suddenly, the radio began to chatter with static. Sam told them to listen and Elle sat straight up to get a better listen. Sam turned the dial on the radio causing more static to come through. Elle looked up at the house and saw the lights begin to flicker.

"I think it's time," Elle said.

"Let's do this," Dean added.

The three Winchesters bolted from the car and headed toward the house. Dean slid a credit card to unlock the front door and they entered the house silently. They approached the living room, Sam first, followed by Elle, but Dean was met by Monica's husband who swung a baseball bat at him. The man missed Dean and nailed the lamp. Dean then wrestled the guy for the bat and told him that they were trying to help. Monica yelled down the stairs for Charlie, her husband. Elle looked at Sam and motioned that they should go upstairs. Dean said that he would take care of the husband as he handed the Colt off before Sam and Elle ran for the stairs.

Sam led the way upstairs as Dean knocked Charlie out. The middle Winchester sibling knew exactly where they were headed as Elle followed him through the house. Sam opened the door to the nursery, finding Monica standing there in her nightgown and a dark figure standing over Rosie's crib. Elle froze in the doorway as the thing with yellow eyes met hers. Elle suddenly felt her throat begin to tighten, like something was cutting off her air supply but there was nothing there. She backed herself up against a wall, trying to brace something to lessen the grip on her throat, but it didn't seem to work. Her eyes watered and her face began to turn colors.

"Sam," Elle choked. "Help."

Sam moved to help his sister when Monica began to slide up the wall and onto the ceiling.

"You can only choose one, Sammy," the demon said. "You can only save one. Which one will it be?"

The room suddenly began to shake violently. Picture frames fell off the wall, light bulbs shattered, the glass of the bedroom practically disintegrated. The demon's eyes widened for a moment before he gave a knowing smile as Sam then raised the Colt and pulled the trigger. The bullet missed the demon, but it disappeared into smoke. Monica screamed as she fell to the floor and Elle collapsed, still clutching at her throat. Monica cried for her child, but Sam easily caught her and told her to go, but she still cried for Rosie. Elle coughed on the floor as Dean came in the room and looked between Elle and Rosie's crib.

"We gotta get out, now!" Dean hissed.

Dean motioned toward the crib to Sam. Sam grabbed Rosie and pushed Monica toward the door. Dean reached down as Elle wrapped her arms around her brother's neck. The room burst into flames as Dean finally got a good grip on Elle. Elle buried her face in Dean's jacket as he raced against the flames to get outside. Elle wiped at the tears that stung her eyes. She was a miserable hunter. She couldn't do anything right. She couldn't even finish the one job she had spent her whole life trying to complete. Elle sat down on the grass and buried her face on her knees.

Monica's husband met them outside and he was pissed. Sam handed Monica her baby as Dean set Elle down on the sidewalk. She still clung to her older brother as she walked away from the burning house. Monica came up to the Winchesters and thanked them. But they were too heartbroken and disappointed to respond. Instead, they just turned and watched the house when a figure suddenly appeared. Sam tried to go after it, but Dean wouldn't let him. Elle was too conflicted with her emotions to understand what she was feeling. Dean walked over to her and got down on his haunches at her level.

"Come here," Dean said.

She couldn't hold on to it anymore. She wrapped her arms around her brother and stood up with him. She cried into his jacket. She had been so close. So close to something normal. And now it was gone. It was as if what her life could have been flashed before her eyes. Dean gently patted her back. Despite the tension there had been between the two of them since John came waltzing back into their lives, that didn't matter now. What mattered was that he got it and that she needed someone who understood.

Elle stood outside with her brothers watching as the house burned. The demon stood inside the house, almost as if it were taunting them—telling them that while they might have thwarted him this time, he was going to be back with a vengeance. She hugged her brother tightly and rested her face on his chest. This was supposed to all be over. Suddenly, The Crazy Frog Song came blaring from her pocket. She hated that song, but she knew who was calling her: John Winchester. Elle released Dean, telling him that she needed some air. She hit the answer button on her phone and brought it up to her ear—not saying a thing.

"Campbell, I need your help," John's voice said through the phone.

"With what? You walk right into that trap like we told you you were going to?" Elle scoffed. "I thought you were told to come alone."

"No, I found it."

"It? I'm staring right at it and I'm pretty sure demons can't be in two places at once."

"Not the demon, Campbell…it. I've found it here and I need your help."

"Me? You need my help? With it?"

"That is what I said, isn't it?"

"What about Sam and Dean?"

"Take it or leave it, Campbell."

"I—I—uh take it. Take it."

"Leave. Leave now.

There was a click on the other line, meaning that John had ended the call. Elle stood there frozen for a moment before she practically peeled the phone from her face and stuffed it in her pocket. She looked back at her brothers who stood there watching the fire. She wanted to kill the son-of-a-bitch, she did—but she needed answers. And if John Winchester was actually willing to give her answers then she had to take him up on that, whatever the risk. Elle turned her back on her brothers and walked to a neighbor's house who had made their way over to watch the house burn. She managed to hotwire their car before she took off in it leaving her brothers behind and headed for answers. Answers that it was about damn time she got.


	23. Kingdom Come

Disclaimer: There is torture in this chapter.

The driver's window of the Honda Civic Elle Winchester had stolen was wide open causing the wind to blow through the young woman's hair. She couldn't believe what she was doing. She had actually left Sam and Dean behind. What the hell was she thinking? Of course she had already questioned her decision once and turned around and headed back toward them when John texted her the coordinates of where he wanted her to meet him. As much as she would love to shove it to her father—letting him think she was coming and then stand him up—she needed this. After failing to take down the son-of-a-bitch that was the reason for her death, there was no way in hell she was missing an opportunity to find out more information about whatever thing she had been forced to keep a secret from Sam and Dean. She had even more drive since they had failed at taking down that yellow eyed creep. She had to do this—even if it meant tolerating John Winchester. She needed to do it for her sanity. She needed to do it if she ever wanted a shot at a normal life.

Elle's phone began to ring. She picked it up and noticed that Dean was calling her. She should answer it, but she wasn't going to. Her father told her to come alone and if she told the boys he might go back on their deal. Instead, she hit the ignore button as she pulled into a gas station. She didn't need any gas yet, but she needed to figure out where the hell she was going. Besides, she needed to be careful how she spent the little cash she had because it would leave a trail…a trail that Sam and Dean could follow. Which also meant that it was time to switch cars—because Sam and Dean could easily follow that trail as well. If they were going to follow her—she might as well make it difficult for them. Elle walked inside the gas station and found the maps and atlases in a corner. The gas station attendant was awfully friendly to her, but Elle just smiled and looked away before opening the atlas of the United States. She had already memorized the numbers her father had sent her: 38.5767 and 92.1736. From other coordinates her father had used in the past, she knew that they were in a state that bordered the Mississippi River. She opened the page of the entire country, finding her finger sliding down the map until she came to Missouri. Jefferson City, Missouri to be exactly. The meeting with Llama Bitch in Lincoln must have gone well because he had moved on.

"Where you headed?" the gas station attendant asked.

"I—uh—anywhere but here," Elle said. "Just got to get away from that abusive son-of-a-bitch and his brother."

"Boyfriend trouble?"

"Uh—yeah. They're probably hunting me down as we speak. I just—I just…"

At this point, Elle knew that tricking Sam and Dean was going to hinge on this random attendant. So, she faked the waterworks. Elle waved her hands in front of her face, forcing the tears to start flowing from her eyes. The gas station attendant looked like he wasn't sure what to do. So, he stepped forward and hugged Elle. Elle hugged him back tightly and cried…or at least tried to. After a few moments, she pulled back with her eyes shining from the forced tears.

"God—you must think I'm pathetic," Elle said with a sniffle.

"You said these guys were on your trail?" the guy questioned.

"Yeah."

"You couldn't happen to show me what they look like, could you? This way when I see them I can point them in the opposite direction."

"I—I couldn't ask you to lie for me. That would just be wrong."

"A little white lie never hurt nobody."

Elle appeared to debate this in her head for a moment before she pretended to reluctantly agree. She pulled out a picture of Sam and Dean from her shoulder bag. As awkward as it was—Elle explained to the guy that Dean was her abusive ex and Sam was his brother, who was almost as bad. In her stomach she felt bad about painting her brothers in such a bad light, but she had to do this. It's what her father would expect her to do—to cover her tracks. Elle hugged the guy once more, this time lifting his car keys and wallet from his pocket. If only Dean could see her now. Usually she tried to lay somewhat low when breaking the law, but she was on a roll tonight: breaking and entering, grand theft auto…twice…if there really was such a place as hell, that would definitely be where she was headed tonight.

She thanked the guy for his help before she headed outside. The guy watched her walk to the Honda Civic she had stolen—which she had anticipated. So, she once again hot-wired the car and drove it in the direction she was going until she was out of sight of the gas station. Then she carefully drove it into the ditch—which would lead the cops and maybe Sam and Dean for a second to think that she was in the woods. She then doubled back to the gas station, careful to avoid detection before she stole the gas station attendant's clunky old mini-van. This was definitely not what she was expecting to drive because one: she was not a soccer mom nor was she two: a creepy guy who attracted kids into his van with candy. Elle then put the old thing into drive and took off in the direction of Jefferson City, Missouri which was still about three hours away. She was no more than ten miles from the gas station when her phone began to buzz again. She looked to see that this time it was Sam calling her. If anyone would understand what she was doing—it would be Sam, but she still couldn't tell him. She hit the ignore button again.

To take her mind off her phone and her brothers, Elle turned the radio on. Her stomach plunged for a moment when she realized the radio station the guy had been listening to was a Christian radio station. Hell was definitely imminent now. She had stolen the car of a goody two-shoes Christian guy. She moved to quickly change the station when a striking piano melody began to float through the speakers. Her fingers fell from the turn dial as the words began and hit at her tender heartstrings:

I waited for you today/But you didn't show/ No no no/ I needed You today/ So where did You go?/ You told me to call/ Said You'd be there/ And though I haven't seen You/ Are You still there?/ I cried out with no reply/ And I can't feel You by my side/ So I'll hold tight to what I know/ You're here and I"m never alone/ And though I cannot see You/ And I can't explain why/ Such a deep, deep reassurance/ You've placed in my life/ We cannot separate/ 'Cause You're part of me/ And though You're invisible/ I'll trust the unseen/ I cried out with no reply/ And I can't feel You by my side/ So I'll hold tight to what I know/ You're here and I"m never alone/ We cannot separate/ You're part of me/ And though You're invisible/ I'll trust the unseen/ I cried out with no reply/ And I can't feel You by my side/ So I'll hold tight to what I know/ You're here and I"m never alone

While Elle couldn't see how this was honk if you love Jesus music, it was still very applicable to her. It was as if this person had written this song about her life. But she quickly turned the dial before she got sucked into some other sappy Christian song that talked about someone's undying and unwavering love for her. If this Jesus person really did love her like that good book claimed—then she wouldn't be in this stupid situation she was in now. Elle found the Top 40 station which was playing She Will Be Lovedby Maroon 5. Damnit! What was it? Emotional song night? It was as if somebody was messing with all the radio stations to toy with her freaking emotions. Elle turned the radio off and ran her fingers through her hair as she drove the creepy van with only one hand. She honestly had no idea what to expect from this situation, but if John was willing to work with her of all people. It had to mean something, right?

About half an hour outside of Jefferson City, she got another text from John Winchester's number giving her the address of where she was supposed to meet him. After she exited out of John's text, she found that she had over thirty missed calls. It looked like Sam and Dean had even gotten Bobby in on things because she had a voicemail message from him. Elle tossed her phone into the backseat so that she wouldn't be tempted to reach out and contact one of them. She had all the information she needed from her father. All that was left to do was get there. As she got closer, she could feel butterflies forming in her stomach. What if this turned out to be like all the other times? What if Dad was a complete ass to her? What if she had fallen for his shit again? But she had to risk it. He had mentioned it and the last time she had even brought it up—he had been dead-set against it. Something had changed—so was it too much to hope that her father had changed?

Elle ditched the mini-van outside a Walmart about half a mile from the address her father suggested they meet. For kicks, she left some candy in the van before she slung her shoulder bag over her neck and started walking. As she got closer to the building, Elle pulled out her cellphone she had put back in her bag before she left the van to double-check the address. In the dim light she saw an old abandoned warehouse across the empty parking lot. The building was covered in all sorts of strange symbols or sigils. Elle wasn't entirely sure which, but whatever they were—John had clearly put up protections to protect them against whatever the hell this was. The two lone street lights in the parking lot suddenly burst and the ground seemed to shake which caused Elle to fall to the ground—just like back in that nursery and like so many times before. Then suddenly, it stopped. Elle lay still on the ground holding her arms over her head. She looked around before her eyes gazed upward toward the stars.

"Do not enter that building, Campbell Winchester," the mysterious voice boomed overhead.

"You again? Really? Impeccable timing," Elle retorted sarcastically.

"Heed my warning."

"No. I deserve this much. You're just scared that I'm going to find out what you truly are."

"What I am is not of import. You are forbidden from that building."

"Says the creepy voice in my head. I'm going inside and you can't stop me."

"Campbell…"

"Unless you give me some freaking answers. Leave. Me. The. Eff. Alone."

There was silence. Elle took off in a sprint toward the building—hoping that the thing wasn't going to try and stop her. The sliding door of the warehouse was heavy, but Elle managed to finagle it open before she quickly slipped inside and shut the door behind her. She stood there for a moment waiting for the voice to make good on its threats, but nothing happened. Elle leaned her head against the door and slowly exhaled. She turned around to see an almost empty and dark warehouse. She took a few steps further inside before she called for her dad. She called his name several more times before she grumbled to herself about how John Winchester wouldn't make it easy for her to find him. It was probably some sort of freaking test for her. So, Elle moved further into the warehouse. The strange symbols that had been on the outside were also on the inside, literally all over the place. Some of them even appeared to be in blood. What they hell were they up against?

Elle continued to meander around the building until she saw an opening into another room that was giving off some light. She rolled her eyes and walked toward the light. She stayed close to the wall, so she could feel her way to the light but she was not prepared for the sight she saw when she rounded the corner. Elle gasped at the sight of her father tied up in chains that were hanging from the ceiling. He looked all bloodied-up and unconscious. Without even thinking, Elle ran toward her father. When she reached John, she gently patted his face to get him to wake up as she called out to her father to wake up. She reached up for the chains, but she was too short to do anything about them. She shook him again, but he just moved at her touch like dead weight. She put her ear close to his mouth to make sure that he was breathing—which he was.

"Dad, who did this to you?" Elle groaned.

"That would be me," a familiar voice spoke from the shadows.

Elle looked around frantically as the door to the spare room slammed shut and the lights went out. Something struck Elle's head causing her to lose consciousness as she fell to the ground. What the hell had she just gotten herself into?

Things were spinning as Elle groggily awoke. She found her wrists shackled by chains that were hanging from the ceiling just like her father. Speaking of her father, she turned to her right to see him dangling beside her. He appeared to be just as out of it as she was—but there was a look of absolute terror on his face when he looked to her and saw her dangling beside him. He muttered something about not believing it. He then seemed to get angry as he pulled against his chains and began yelling but no one responded to his screams.

"Taking on the form of my daughter ain't gonna work on me you son-of-a-bitch!" John shouted. "You're going to have to do better than that. My daughter never would have come here."

"But I did come here, you asshole," Elle hissed at him.

"My daughter would never do something so stupid."

"Always know how to build me up," Elle said sarcastically. "But you're in the same stupid boat with me, not recognizing your own freaking daughter."

"Prove it."

"How exactly am I supposed to do that?"

"What were the last words I spoke to you before I left?"

"Left when? You've left me so many freaking times that I've lost count. But if you're referring to the last words you said before you left for Lincoln I think it was something along the lines of us needing to talk—which is a bunch of shit in my opinion. You've had my entire life to talk to me. Why start now?"

John sighed and shook his head. There was no way a demon could be that bitter about the situation. Those were genuine feelings. Here he was, captured beside his daughter.

"What in the hell are you doing here, kid?" John hissed.

"Like you don't know," Elle scoffed. "You're the reason I'm here."

"Enlighten me."

"You called me and told me to meet you here."

"I never called you, Elle."

"Then who did?"

"That would be me," another voice spoke.

The voice sounded exactly like John Winchester's, but Elle was looking right at her father and didn't see his lips moving. Shivers of terror went down Elle's spine as footsteps echoed through the room. She looked to her father to do something to help her—but he was just as helpless as her. The footsteps got closer and closer until he stepped into the light. It was a man—he looked like a completely normal man.

"I believe you've met my daughter," the man spoke.

Llama Bitch then stepped into the light with a smirk on her face. Elle's face contorted in anger at the thing that had knocked her out and tied her up. She tried to lunge forward, but the chains stopped her. Meg chuckled with her arms folded across her chest. Elle tried to lift herself up by her chains so she could kick at Llama Bitch, but Elle felt her bad wrist crack. She howled in pain before she hung limp in the chains.

"Meg, darling, why don't you go check on those Winchester boys," the man spoke.

"Stay away from them!" John shouted.

"Don't worry, Johnny-boy, I'm going to be staying here with you two."

It was at that point that the man's eyes flashed yellow. John tried to lunge at the demon, but he too was held back by the chains and jerked into place. Yellow Eyes chuckled as Meg stepped forward toward Elle. Meg pulled Elle's face back by pulling on her hair, so that Elle's face was directly looking at Meg's.

"Payback's a bitch, bitch," Meg hissed.

Llama Bitch spat in Elle's face before she kneed her in the stomach. Elle groaned in pain once again as Llama Bitch walked away to go find Sam and Dean. It was at this point that Elle wished she wouldn't have been so damn stubborn about excluding them—about doing everything she possibly could to throw them off her trail. There was no way in hell that Sam and Dean were going to find them before she and her father were both dead. The outcome was near impossible.

"Now it's just the three of us," the demon spoke as he pulled up a chair. "Oh, how I've been waiting for this day. The day I finally put an end the hiccup in my plan."

"What did we ever do to you?" Elle muttered.

"The fact that you even exist ranks up there, Elle. Elle, can I call you Elle?"

"No."

"That's too bad."

"Don't talk to him," John hissed.

"Why not, Johnny-boy? Tonight is a night of answers and means to an end. You might as well go down with a clear conscience."

"If anyone's going down tonight it will be you and your bitch of a daughter."

"You'd like to think that, wouldn't you? I have you all exactly where I want you. Not to mention that you getting any assistance after I'm through with you will be unlikely. Now who'd like to go first?"

The demon held up a blade in his hand and smirked.

"No?" the demon said. "Looks like we'll have to do this the old fashioned way. Eenie, meenie, miney, mo…"

When the yellow eyed demon finally finished, his blade was pointing at John. He smirked and took a step closer to John. The demon held the blade to John's throat and John just stared directly at him—no emotion on his face. Yellow Eyes then quickly turned around and headed in the direction of Elle. Elle tried to back away from him, but the chains once more jerked her back into her proper position.

"I'm going to break you, John. Which is why Elle here will be first."

Elle gasped in fright and for a second, she swore she saw something flash in John's eyes. Anger? Pain? But Elle didn't get much of a chance to look at her father when the Yellow Eyed Demon plunged his blade into her thigh. Elle screamed out in pain. Natural instinct told her to try and get the thing out of her leg, but the demon only twisted it causing her to scream even more. It hurt like a bitch. Tears fell from Elle's eyes from the pain, but she tried to ignore them—not wanting to look weak. The demon then twisted Elle on her chains so that she was directly facing her father. Still in pain, Elle missed the contorted face of anger on her father's face.

"How does it feel Winchester? Knowing that once again you're helpless to save a woman you love from me," the demon taunted.

"He doesn't love me," Elle seethed, breathing heavily. "Never has. Never will."

"Is that really what you think baby Winchester, because I think otherwise."

"Well, excuse me for not trusting a demon," Elle said flatly. "I trust what I can see and love has never been something he's showed toward me."

"Looks like we have us a Doubting Thomas—or should I say Doubting Elle. What'd you say John? Should we show her how much you care?"

John's glance was at the ground. Something inside Elle snapped. She was in this freaking situation because of one person: John Winchester and he couldn't even stand to look at her. He couldn't stand to look at the pain she was in. But before she could yell at her father the demon plunged the blade into her again, this time into her other leg. Elle howled in pain and again, John looked away, with his eyes misting. She was too focused on her own pain and anger that she missed John attempt to lunge at the demon who only laughed at John's futile attempt.

"If you're going to kill me just get it over with!" Elle hissed.

"That would be counterproductive," the demon stated. "I made the mistake of killing you once. I won't be doing it again."

"Why not? Won't killing me stick it the father you claim has some sort of undying love for me?"

"My dear, as much as I would enjoy killing you in front of him, you have friends in high places that I wasn't anticipating last time. Nevertheless, I'm not as naïve this time around. I've shall we say, learned from my mistakes. You see, for the longest time I couldn't be certain how you survived that night and the very depths of hell with no more than a scar. But I have since unraveled the mystery."

The demon rolled both of Elle's jean legs up. Elle tried to kick him away, but he stabbed the knife into her leg again making her not want to move it. He then removed her blue Converse sneakers and her socks, revealing the ring around her ankle. The scar she had had since as long as she could remember. The demon yanked the knife out once more and almost gently caressed the scar with the blade. The whole situation was rather creepy and made Elle want to barf. Elle looked to her father who appeared almost intrigued as to where the demon was going with this—all the while keeping his hard demeanor. Elle couldn't help but find the little humor in the situation.

"You make me sound like I'm freaking Harry Potter," Elle scoffed.

"No, you're Campbell Winchester."

"So, if you're not going to kill me, then what are you going to do?"

"Let's call it my insurance."

Elle looked down at the demon who was still kneeling down by her ankle. What the hell was he going to do? Elle looked to her father who refused to meet her gaze. What she didn't know was that John was hanging there contemplating his failure as a father—but Elle took it as him not caring. While she wasn't looking, the demon stabbed the knife into her again. She screamed and couldn't help but look down at what he was doing. It was more than just a simple stab. No, he was literally carving into the flesh on her calves. She grit her teeth and closes her eyes tightly as the demon continued to work. When she finally had gone more than thirty seconds without feeling the knife inside her, Elle opened her eyes only to see the demon's yellow eyes looking right into hers. She screamed, but he put his hand over her mouth.

"You think that hurt, it's only gonna get worse baby Winchester."

She was too overwhelmed by the pain to notice that the mark on her leg perfectly matched one of the symbols on the wall as the knife's tip began to etch at her cheek. She could feel the blood dripping from her cheek mix with the tears that fell from her eyes. He then dragged the blade to her neck—but he was very careful not to nick her carotid artery as he carved another symbol into her flesh. Elle was in so much pain all over her body—but she refused to give-up consciousness. She was stubborn as hell and she refused to be weak. Although once again in her anger, she failed to realize that her father hung beside her crying. But that also might have been because the demon turned her on the chains so that her back was to John.

"Such a pretty girl, you have here Johnny-boy" the demon tutted. "Just like her mama. It's a shame that I have to do this."

The blade then plunged into Elle's back through her clothing. Elle howled in pain as John jerked in his chains. The Yellow Eyed Demon laughed maniacally as he continued to mark Elle. He marked sigils all over her body: into her arms, her lower back, her upper chest, but he saved the most painful for last. He carved roughly and deeply into her stomach. The pain was so immense that Elle passed out right in front of the demon and her father. She hung there limp which made the demon laugh. He finally turned her around so that Elle was facing John. The demon grinned.

"Like my handy-work, John?"

"Stop," John hissed.

"This is what you want for your little girl isn't it? You want her to hurt. You want her to not know what love is. To only know pain and want nothing from you? Right? Isn't that what you've spent her entire life trying to accomplish. Well, your attempt was pathetic considering that I've just surpassed you in a single night. It's almost as if your heart wasn't fully in it."

"You know nothing about my heart."

"No? I know that you loved that pretty little thing Mary Campbell. I know that you love those boys of yours. I also know that despite your pathetic attempts to show otherwise: you love your daughter. You love her more than those boys. You love her more than yourself. Which is exactly what makes this so much fun."

Elle's eyes slowly fluttered open. For a moment, she was quite confused. She was no longer in the confines of the building where she was being tortured with the Yellow Eyed Demon. No, she was at the lake. The lake that had once brought her so much comfort and peace but had also brought her pain and heartbreak. She slowly sat up. She wasn't in pain here. She looked down at her arms and legs—they were perfectly normal. Elle pushed herself up into a standing position and walked closer to the water. She then looked up at the starry night sky when something snapped within her. The calm and peace were no more.

"Help me!" Elle shouted toward the sky.

"I warned you, Campbell," the voice said, sounding almost sad. "You deliberately disobeyed me."

"Can you really blame me?"

"Yes, I can. You're the one who made the choice."

"Just do something to get me out of here. I know you've helped me before. And in case you haven't noticed, I'm in freaking danger!"

"I am not able to reach you, physically. It is only here in your dreams that I somehow managed to find you."

"Just help me. Get me out of here."

"I already told you that I can no longer be of assistance, Campbell."

"Please! I'll do anything you ask. I promise. I will listen next time. Anything."

"I'm afraid you don't fully comprehend the consequence of your actions. Should you have heeded my warning I would have been able to protect you and fulfill my duty as your guardian, but there is no possible way for me to assist you now. You are—how do you say it? On your own. I can only guide you in your subconscious."

"Some good that does me."

"I wish I could do more."

"You can! You can help me!"

"I've done all I can."

"It's not enough."

"Campbell…"

"For the last time, it's Elle! Now leave me alone. Since you won't help me."

"I can't help you. There's a difference."

"Oh screw you!"

Elle gasped and struggled to breathe when she finally awoke. Her body ached all over. Her wrist throbbed from the chains. The marks etched into her burned as the air touched the open wounds. But what pissed Elle off most was the fact that her father seemed to be having a friendly conversation with the demon who had done this to her. Was he really that shitty of a person? Did he hate her that much?

"I can see you, you know," Elle spat.

"Looks like our little princess is awake, John," Yellow Eyes chuckled.

"She means nothing to you!" John hissed.

"That's where you're wrong. She was once my undoing, but not again. But that doesn't mean I still can't have my fun. Now, what else do we have here that we can play with."

Yellow Eyes began to walk around the warehouse to find some other instrument of torture to use on Elle. The sound of his footsteps faded away. Elle tried to move, but she had no strength to jerk herself anywhere. She looked over at her father, who once again refused to look at her. Anger surged through her. What she didn't understand was that John couldn't look at her because he knew all the pain she was in physically and emotionally was because of him.

"Look at me you asshole!" Elle hissed.

John's eyes immediately flung upward toward his daughter. There was a certain sadness in his eyes that Elle had never seen before. For a moment, John just stared at his daughter as she softly cried hanging from the ceiling.

"You need to stay strong," John stated.

"I'm sick of being strong," Elle whined.

"Campb—Elle…"

"No, I don't want to hear it. Not right now."

The door opened once again and the footsteps grew louder.

"Miss me?" Yellow Eyes taunted. "Look what I found."

The demon held up a jug of Holy Water and a container of salt. Elle looked to her father with wide eyes. Demons were supposed to be fallible to both Holy Water and salt—but yet, this guy thing could hold them in his hands as if he were going to drink some water with his freshly salted popcorn.

"I know what you're thinking," the demon chuckled. "I'm supposed to be impervious to these. Surprise! I can have all the Holy Water and rock salt smoothies I want. But now what to do with these. I was thinking of mixing them together and pouring the mixture of Elle's wounds. What do you think?"

"You bastard," Elle hissed.

Yellow Eyes simply chuckled and winked at Elle as he poured the salt into the jug of Holy Water. He took a sip of the water before commenting that it could use more salt. He then proceeded to dump in the remainder of the salt before he gave the jug a good shake. He then walked slowly toward Elle who by this point was shaking. She was bloody, tired, and sore—but the demon wasn't done with her yet. Part of her honestly wished for death—but she knew that the demon wasn't going to give it to her. No, he would probably get her as close to death as possible without actually killing her. He smiled as he told her that this was going to hurt like a bitch before he dumped salt water onto the deepest wound on her stomach. Elle screamed and tried to double over in pain—but it hurt more to curl up to stop the pain than to just put up with it. The demon laughed as he let some more water slide down her head—into her eyes and the wounds on her face and neck. Elle could practically feel the salt water eating away at her flesh. She couldn't recall in her current memory being in so much pain. Elle tried to blow her wet and stray strands of hair out of her face, but it was no luck. The demon then smirked at her once again before he began to spin Elle on her chains.

"There are three little words that can end this, John," the demon said snidely.

He spun Elle once again before he tossed more salt water at her causing her to scream.

"I know you've just been dying to say them."

The demon dumped more water on the girl and then started spinning her again. John looked away, which was when Yellow Eyes stopped spinning Elle and ran over to John.

"We're waiting."

By this point, the demon was right in John's face as Elle puked from where she was hanging. John looked Yellows Eyes square in the eyes with his jaw set.

"I love you," John muttered.

"I'm flattered John," the demon sneered. "But I already know of your undying love and obsession of me. Someone else needs to hear those words."

Yellow Eyes turned John so that he was facing his daughter who now had puke running down her shirt. Elle looked to her father with tears in her eyes—John wasn't sure what kind of pain she was dealing with right now, but he recognized that she was in pain. His bottom lip began to quiver. He had done everything wrong as far as Elle was concerned—and he knew it. He longed to explain things to her—but now wasn't exactly the time, especially with one of the very reasons being present. But he had to buy the boys some time…and maybe, just maybe, his little girl would hear the truth in his words.

"I—I love—love you."

The demon slowly began to clap.

"Take it back. That's a bunch of bullshit that I don't want to nor do I care to hear," Elle hissed.

The expression on John's face showed how much Elle's words hurt for a moment before they flashed back to his hard façade.

"I woulda given you the Oscar," Yellow Eyes taunted.

"You've had your fun, now let the girl go," John said. "You have me, that's what you want."

"No, I want you both because that will get me the Colt. Your boys will come running for the two of you, just like I planned them too."

"What about Llama Bitch?" Elle questioned.

"I needed her to rough them up a bit if she couldn't get her hands on the gun or to kill them if she could. But this, this is just step one of a much larger plan."

"Why are you telling us all this? It's really rather stupid of you."

"And who are you to judge?"

"You wanna know who I am?" Elle scoffed. "I'm a survivor. I've gotten through other shit and I'll get through this too."

"Only because I allowed it and don't you forget that for a single second."

Elle could feel her inner strength begin to crumble. Had her entire life until this point been a lie? Had this demon been pulling the strings of her life? She tried to tell herself that it wasn't possible, but the more she thought about it—the more it made sense. This thing had had control of her life and she was just along for the ride—much like she was now. She was no more than a pawn in someone else's game. Normal was never going to be an option for her. She was going to be stuck living a lie and that thought practically killed her on the inside. It all became too much for her to handle. The physical pain, the emotional pain and manipulation—she fell back into a state of unconsciousness, which seemed a much safer option.

There wasn't another meeting in her dream. Instead, when she woke up, she was in tied-up in a sitting position in an armchair in a bedroom that was covered in the same sigils as the warehouse. The bright sun shining into the room hurt her eyes. She tried to shield them, but her arms were tied together. So, she was forced to squint to examine the room around her. John Winchester lay on the bed, also tied-up. Elle tried to roll her eyes, but they hurt too much. She closed her eyes for a moment before she opened them, seeing the blood and wounds all over her body which made her begin to cry because they hurt and the memories of her torture came flooding back to her.

"Elle," John groaned weakly.

She didn't respond.

"Can you move?" John questioned.

"No," Elle sniffled. "Where are we?"

"I don't know. I was knocked out not too long after you passed-out."

"Where's Mr. Yellow Eyes Buttmunch Douchenozzle ?"

"Don't know, but nice name."

"He deserves worse."

John actually chuckled at her statement, which surprised her. He hardly ever laughed at her stupid jokes or nicknames. Elle groaned as she moved her neck the wrong direction, causing the wound to reopen. She sat still for a few moments—noticing that she and her father weren't alone.

"I hear voices—outside," Elle whispered.

"Probably demons," John responded.

"What is this? Some sort of demon gang? Gotta know the secret handshake to be a member type of thing?

"Something like that."

Elle sighed. She had a tickle on the end of her nose that wouldn't go away and there was nothing she could do to reach it. Noting that she was in an armchair, she hoped that maybe she could scoot the chair across the room until she came to the bedpost to loosen the cords around her. She inched forward with the chair, exerting more energy than she had to give. She was almost to the bedpost when she got over-excited and used too much force causing Elle with the chair attached to her to go crashing to the floor. This made her whole body ache, but on the plus side, at least her nose didn't itch anymore because she could rub it against the carpet.

"That was a dumb idea," Elle groaned.

Suddenly, the fire alarm began to sound through the building. The noise was loud and made Elle attempt to cover one of her ears with her shoulder. Not only was she hurt and in a rather uncomfortable position, but now she was going to die by fire. This had to be the worst day of her life, by far. Elle called for her father, but he didn't respond. Either he couldn't hear her over the fire alarm or he had passed out again. Now that she thought about it, his injuries looked worse than the last time she had seen him.

Elle wasn't sure how long she lay there—waiting for the flames to engulf her, when she heard a scuffle going down outside the room. She could hear shouting, but she wasn't quite sure what they were saying. Next thing she knew, the bedroom door was kicked open and Sam and Dean dressed as firemen waltzed through the door. Elle had never been so happy to see her brothers in her life. She began to cry as Dean immediately ran to her rescue and pushed her chair back into a standing position and Sam ran to their father. She was too emotional that she couldn't even say anything. Dean got out his knife to cut the restraints when Sam told him to stop—something about needed to check to make sure neither of them were possessed. Sam took a flask of Holy Water from his duffel bag and dumped some on Elle and John. They both seemed to pass the test. Elle didn't even think to tell the boys that Yellow Eyes was impervious to Holy Water. Instead, she was too happy that she was being rescued as Dean pulled his sisters arms around his neck and he picked her up like she was a child. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"How did you find us?" Elle asked groggily.

"Got this strange phone call when we pulled into town. Dude sounded weird as hell and he hung up on me before I could ask him much," Dean said.

"The gun…"

"We got it. It's safe."

"Llama Bitch…"

"She's dead."

"Good, that's the best thing I've heard all day."

"When we're safe I'm going to yell at you for being a little bitch and taking off like that. It was a really stupid thing to do, Elle."

"What? I thought walking into traps was a good thing," Elle groggily responded in sarcasm. "Ouch, hurts to laugh."

Dean shook his head as he turned around to make sure that Sam could handle their father on his own. Sam stood John up and wrapped one of his father's arms around his neck before he nodded his head at Dean. They slowly followed behind Dean and Elle into the main room when the front door suddenly burst open. A fireman walked through the door, but Sam and Dean realized that it was a man possessed by a demon who was out to get them. Dean shouted for them to get back to the bedroom. The Winchesters quickly retreated back into the former prison. They were safe for all of thirty seconds when an axe began chopping through the door. Elle curled closer into Dean as Sam pointed at the fire escape. Dean quickly carried Elle outside and set her down as Sam salted the doorway. Both Sam and Dean had to help John out the window, but Sam forgot his duffel bag on the bed so he had to run and get it, just in time too because the demon made his way inside the room. Sam quickly salted the window frame before he helped John lean against him and they followed Dean and Elle down the fire escape.

Dean rested Elle against the Impala as he ran back to help Sam with John. Suddenly out of nowhere, some freak tackled Sam to the ground and starting beating the shit out of him. Elle willed herself to move, but she couldn't force her body to move. She was too sore, but she couldn't stand there and idly watch Sam get beat-up. She purposely fell to the ground and tried to roll her body all the way over to her brother, but that required more work than she had anticipated. She didn't get very far, but thankfully Dean was on top of things. Or at least after the oldest Winchester sibling got knocked around a bit, he pulled out the Colt and put a bullet in the middle of the guy's head. The thing fell to the ground, dead as Dean rushed and helped Sam to his feet. Dean then ran and picked Elle up from the middle of the sidewalk as Sam picked John up. All four Winchesters got into the Impala and Dean sped off to find them a safe place to stay for now.

Elle was in and out of consciousness from the backseat as Dean drove. She was so tired and exhausted. All she really wanted was a decent meal and a good night's rest. Her father was also in and out of consciousness beside her in the backseat. For a brief moment they were awake at the same time, but when their eyes met, Elle quickly looked away. He was the reason for all this pain. She would never forgive him for this. After a couple hours of driving, Dean pulled down an old dirt road that led them to an abandoned cabin that Bobby had set up years ago for hunters. Being stubborn, Elle tried to get to the cabin herself from the car, but the second she got outside she fell flat on her face from the injuries to her legs. They still hurt like a bitch—which made her scream from the pile of mud she landed in. Dean quickly came over to her and put his hand over her mouth to quiet her, so that she didn't give them away. When he thought she was calm, he picked her up and they followed Sam into the cabin who had his gun drawn in case of any funny business.

When things were all clear, Dean set Elle down on the couch because there was only one bed in the place and John was bigger, hence he got the bed—or at least that was how Dean rationalized things. But to make up for it, Dean checked on Elle and her injuries first while Sam went and demon-proofed the cabin. Dean cringed at the sight of all those carvings and stab marks on his sister. There were several that would require stitches. He reached in his duffel bag for the sewing kit they kept for times like these. He opened it and rummaged through it, not finding exactly what he needed.

"Elle, some of these need to be sewn up," Dean said.

"Just get it over with," Elle groaned.

"Here's the thing we're out of thread."

"Sew—a needle pulling thread," Elle sang.

"All we have is—uh—"

Dean dug through his duffel bag before pulling something out as Sam finished salting the windows and doors in the main room before heading into the bedroom.

"Dental floss," Dean sighed.

"At least my wounds will be minty fresh," Elle joked.

"That's the spirit. Now, I don't have anything stronger than water to drink, so this is gonna hurt like a bitch."

"Wouldn't be the first time I've heard that."

Dean looked at her quizzically before he threaded the floss through the needle. He then helped his little sister out of her bloodied up clothes and into a pair of boxers and a zip-up sweatshirt so he could easily work around her wounds. He carefully stitched-up one of the stab wounds on her leg. Elle tried to keep from screaming, but noises still escaped her gritted teeth. She asked him to take a break after fixing up the first wound before she went through round two. Dean reluctantly agreed—believing that it was better to just get it over and done with, like ripping a Band-Aid off, but he gave in to his little sister's demands. She asked for some water, so Dean got up and got her a glass. Dean helped Elle into a sitting position before he gave her the water and Sam walked back into the main room.

"How is he?" Dean asked about their father.

"Just needs some sleep, that's all," Sam said.

"And you?" Elle asked, noticing Sam's bloodied, bruised, and swollen face.

"I'll survive. I got off easy compared to you."

"It's not so bad."

"Liar," Dean coughed.

"Yeah, that was a real shitty lie."

"So, you guys don't think we were followed here, do you?" Sam asked.

"I was out for most of the drive," Elle said with a shrug.

"I don't think so," Dean sighed. "I mean, we couldn't have found a more out-of-the-way place to hole up."

"Yeah—hey—uh, Dean, you, um—you save my life back there," Sam said.

"So, I guess you're glad I brought the gun, huh?"

"Man, I'm trying to thank you here."

"You're welcome."

"Speaking of thank yous," Elle sighed. "Thank you both for coming to get me."

"Maybe if you laid off the bitch a bit we wouldn't have had to save you," Dean said.

"I thought Dad called me," Elle began to cry. "He said—he said…but it wasn't him."

"Sometimes we make stupid choices," Sam said before giving Dean a knowing look. "Or sometimes they're made for us.

There was an awkward silence among the siblings, but that silence was broken when John walked into the room. He told Dean that he had done good earlier and that he was proud. Dean and Sam were taken aback by their father's compliments. They assumed that he would be pissed that they wasted a bullet. Then he did something even more surprising, he walked over to the couch and sat on the edge where Dean had been sitting. Elle looked up at him in confusion. What the hell did he want? But suddenly Elle's eyes rolled to the back of her head and she was once again in her dream world.

"Assistance will be arriving shortly," the voice spoke like thunder.

Elle awakened to the room beginning to shake. A loud noise pierced the air and the glass shattered.

"They're coming aren't they?" John whispered.

Elle nodded her head as John looked over his shoulder to Sam and Dean. He then pulled a knife out of his jacket pocket.

"I never loved you, you bitch."

Elle's eyes widened in horror as John's eyes then flickered yellow. She barely got out a scream when John slashed her hand with the knife. He then pressed her bloodied hand against the mark on her stomach. Suddenly, there was a blinding white flash of light outside and Elle passed out once again. Then the wind started to pick up and the lights flickered again.

"It's found us. It's here," John said.

"The demon?" Sam questioned as John nodded in response.

"Sam, lines of salt in front of every window, every door."

"I already did it."

"Well, check it, okay?"

"What the hell happened to her?" Dean asked as he came to Elle's side again.

"Passed out," John said. "Weak constitution."

"I can see that she's passed out and Elle is anything but weak."

"Now ain't the time for your sass. Dean, you got the gun?"

"Yeah."

"Give it to me."

Dean took the Colt out of the pocket of his jeans. He stared at the gun in front of him.

"Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation. It disappeared right after…"

"This is me. I won't miss. Now, the gun, hurry," John stated.

Dean hesitated.

"The thing disappeared after that rumbling, like the one that happened a few minutes ago. Like the rumbling that happened in Wisconsin. That rumbling ain't demon related, it's something else and the demon don't like it."

"Son, please."

Dean took a few steps backward from his father and closer to Elle's head.

"Give me the gun," John said as Dean shook his head. "What are you doing, Dean?"

"He'd be furious," Dean hissed.

"What?"

"That I wasted a bullet. He wouldn't be proud of me. He'd tear me a new one."

"Dean…"

John looked at his son as Dean raised the Colt, pointing it straight at his father and cocking it.

"You're not my Dad."

"Dean, it's me."

"I know my Dad better than anyone and you ain't him. He'd never reach out to Elle like that. For years I've told her that she's making the whole thing up, but I've watched him with her and I get why he does it and I've kept his secret—but that, well, that was a little over the top."

"What the hell's gotten into you? Is the pressure getting to you?"

"No, imposter sons-of-bitches like you get to me."

Sam walked back out into the room and was shocked to see Dean standing there with the Colt pointed at their father. Sam questioned Dean as to what was going on and John responded by saying that Dean had lost his mind. Sam stood there unsure of what side to take—instead he leaned over the couch and picked an unconscious Elle up.

"Someone better start explaining things," Sam said as he shifted Elle in his arms.

"He's not Dad," Dean hissed. "I think he's possessed. Probably been possessed since we rescued him."

"Dean, how do you know?"

"He's—he's different. When have you ever seen him act like that with Elle?"

"Never."

"Exactly."

"Dad wouldn't do that—especially not in front of you."

"What's that supposed to mean?

"Boys, we don't have time for this and you know it," John interrupted. "Sam, if you wanna kill this demon, you've got to trust me."

Sam looked at his father and then at Dean. He repeated the action before he looked down at his broken little sister. What was in Elle's best interest? When had Dean ever intentionally steered him wrong? Never, when it dealt with the well-being of all of them. Sam then moved over to Dean's side with Elle in his arms. The three Winchester siblings were on one side as if they were pitted in a match against their father. John folded his arms across his chest and stared at his children before taking one step closer to them with a slight smirk on his face.

"Fine. You're both so sure, go ahead. Kill me."

Dean held the gun aimed at his father and John stood there, waiting; but Dean couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger.

"Thought so."

Once again, John's eyes flashed yellow. Sam and Dean both lunged forward but they were suddenly thrown against the wall. Elle fell from Sam's arms onto the hard floor like the Colt from Dean's hands. The gun was mere inches away from Elle's hand, but she still remained unconscious. Yellow Eyes walked up to the gun but hovered his foot over Elle's wrist.

"This is the bad one, right?"

Sam and Dean didn't say anything as the heavy boot went smashing onto Elle's arm. The boys easily heard the sound of bone crunching before the demon bent down and picked the Colt up. The demon spun the Colt in his hands before he winked at Sam and Dean.

"You have no idea what a pain in the ass this thing's been," the demon said.

"It's you, isn't it? We've been looking for you for a long time," Sam responded.

"Well you found me," the demon said with a slight bow. "But from what I gather from Daddy and Sissy is that I'm not the only thing you Winchesters have been searching for. Oh wait a minute, you two don't know about the other thing."

"You're lying," Dean hissed.

"Now why would I do that?"

"You're a demon. Demons lie."

"That hurts my little feelings, Dean. Now Sammy, you look like you've got something you need to get off your chest."

"Why didn't the Holy Water work?"

"You really think something like that works on something like me?"

Sam tried to fight the force that held him pinned up against the wall, but he failed. Sam shouted that he was going to kill the demon, but that only made old Yellow Eyes laugh. The demon then set the gun down on the table and told Sam to make is psychically float to him. Sam stared at the gun, but nothing happened.

"Well this is fun," Yellow Eyes scoffed. "I could've killed you a hundred times today, but this…this is worth the wait. Besides, I got to have fun with those two today."

"You touched my freaking sister?" Dean hissed. "What the hell did you do to her?"

"Like I told her, she's my insurance policy."

"Now you really need an ass kicking."

"I'd like to see you try, but you're just not special enough. There's nothing special about you, Dean. It must be hard having to have Elle and Sam for siblings. But it doesn't end there because John—well, your dad—he's in here with me. He's trapped inside his own meat suit. He's says 'hi' by the way…and that he's gonna tear you part. He's gonna taste the iron in your blood."

"Let him go."

"So, I can have Elle instead?"

"I swear to God…"

"What? What are you and God gonna do? I've already vanished his warriors—but you see, as far as I'm concerned, this is justice. You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter."

"Who? Llama Bitch? She had it coming."

"And the one in the alley? That was my boy, you understand."

"You've got to be kidding me. Who allowed you to reproduce?"

"What? You're the only one that can have a family? You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family…Oh, that's right. I forgot. I did. Still two—three—two and a half wrongs don't make a right."

"You son-of-a-bitch."

"Why? Why'd you do it?" Sam hissed.

"You mean, why did I kill Mommy and pretty, little Jess?"

"And Elle," Dean added.

"She doesn't really count. But no worries, I've taken care of Elle. She won't be getting in my way like the others anymore."

"In the way of what?

"My plans for you, Sammy. You…and all the children like you."

"Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh? Cause I really can't stand the monologuing," Dean grunted.

"Funny. So funny I forgot to laugh, but that's all part of your M.O. isn't it? Masks all that nasty pain, masks the truth. Something more than one Winchester inherited."

Yellow Eyes got down at Elle's level and looked over his shoulder before he pressed Elle's bleeding hand to the mark on her stomach again—just for good measure to keep those bloody pests away. He then dropped Elle's hand, completely unaware that the youngest Winchester was beginning to awaken. The demon then stood up and walked until he was face to face with Dean.

"You know, you fight and fight for this family, but the truth is they don't need you. Not like you need them. Elle—she's clearly John's favorite whether anyone cares to admit it or not. But I know because I'm inside Daddy's head. She reminds him of Mary…he can't say the same for you."

"I bet you're real proud of your kids, too, huh?" Dean scoffed. "Oh wait, I forgot, I wasted 'em."

Dean smirked at the demon who looked down for a moment and looked back up at Dean. Suddenly, Dean yelled out in pain before he began to bleed heavily from his chest. Sam tried to move to help his brother, but it was no use. He was stuck. But no one noticed Elle as she reached up the table for the Colt. She knew it was her only chance. She used the table to brace herself to stand—her left arm throbbing. Clearly, it was broken again. But she couldn't scream out in pain. Not now. She would lose the element of surprise. Elle grasped the Colt in her right hand and pointed it at the Yellow Eyed Demon.

"You're wrong," Elle said hoarsely causing Yellow Eyes to turn around. "I do need Dean."

Elle's finger moved to pull the trigger when suddenly she was thrown against the opposite wall, dropping the gun. Yellow Eyes focused his attention on Elle and Dean. Both Elle and Dean were bleeding profusely while Sam was still trapped on the wall, unable to help.

"Dad, don't let it kill us!" Dean coughed. "Think of Elle's box. That's the real you."

The demon looked at Dean and smiled before Dean started screaming in pain once again. Elle struggled on the opposite wall. The wounds that were inflicted earlier seemed to start to bleed and blood gushed from her mouth.

"Dad, please!" Dean grumbled before he passed out.

"Daddy," Elle whispered. "Please."

John's stance seemed to change as he began whispering for it to stop. It was as if he had taken control over his own body. The three Winchesters who had once been pinned against the wall dropped to the floor. Sam made a move for the gun. It was a good thing he did, because John's eyes turned yellow again.

"You ruin everything," John hissed as he looked at Elle.

Sam suddenly fired the gun, shooting straight into John's leg. The man toppled to the ground. Sam dropped the gun and rushed to the sibling closest to him: Dean. Dean had lost more blood than Elle...or at least that's what it looked like. Sam didn't factor in how much blood Elle had lost earlier in the day. Speaking of Elle, she crawled across the floor to where her father lay despite the agonizing pain she was in. She practically collapsed on her father who was lying motionless.

"Dad? Daddy?" Elle whispered as she shook him.

John's eyes suddenly flashed open, he looked like he was convulsing.

"Elle! It's still alive. It's inside me. I can feel it. Grab that gun and you shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, baby girl."

Elle hesitated for a second before she reached for the Colt which was near John's feet. She picked it up and turned toward her father. She could feel her arm begin to shake and tears form in her eyes. Was this really how it was going to end? Was she going to be the one to take her father's life?

"Do it now!" He commanded.

"Elle, don't you do it! Don't you do it!" Dean shouted.

"You've gotta hurry, kiddo," John continued. "I can't hold onto it much longer! You shoot me, Elle! Shoot me! Elle, I'm begging you! We can end this here and now! Elle!"

The tears were now freely flowing down her cheek as she cocked the gun. She didn't know if she had what it took. For so long she had talked about being rid of John Winchester, but would she be able to do the deed? She steadied her arm and aimed the gun at his chest and took a deep breath.

"Elle, no!" Dean shouted.

"Not like this!" Sam added.

"You do this! Campbell! Elle…" John added. "For your mother. For you."

Tears blinded Elle's eyes as everything seemed to happen in slow-motion. Her finger moved to pull the trigger when her father began to convulse again. The room began to shake and a high-pitched noise resounded through the room. Suddenly, a black cloud of smoke escaped John's lips and it disappeared through the floor. The shaking came to a stop. Elle looked at John who looked at her accusingly.

"Screw you," Elle muttered before she practically collapsed on the floor.

She clutched at some of her wounds which were still bleeding profusely. Her head began to spin. She knew she had lost too much blood throughout the course of the day. Dean told Sam to go to Elle, which he immediately did. He examined her wounds, but it was hard to tell which ones were giving her the most pain. They all looked painful. They were too much for someone without medical training.

"How do you feel?" Sam asked.

"Tired," Elle whispered.

"You need to stay awake."

"I don't know that I can."

"Try."

"I will."

"It's too much man," Sam said calling over to Dean. "We need to get her to a hospital."

"I think most of us could use a hospital. Sammy you're gonna have to drive and if anything happens to Baby…"

"Yeah, I know."

The Winchesters piled into the car. Sam helped Dean into the front seat before he helped John and Elle into the back. Sam tried to get Elle propped-up against her pillow when John did something that surprised him and reached over and grabbed Elle. He brought his daughter close to him and held onto her tight. Sam jumped into the driver's seat and started the car. From the rearview mirror he was surprised to see John stroking Elle's hair and kissing the top of her head, whispering to her that everything was going to be all right, despite the fact that the girl was barely breathing. John's eyes met Sam's in the mirror. Sam tried to focus back on the road. They were less than ten minutes away from the hospital. Almost there—no need to get into an awkward conversation now.

"I'm surprised at you, Sammy," John said. "Why didn't you kill it? I understood Elle's faltering—but you, I thought we saw eye-to-eye on this thing? Killing this demon comes first—before me, before everything."

"No, sir. Not before everything. Look, we've still got the Colt and all four of us once ya'll are patched up. We still have one bullet left. We just have to start over, alright? I mean, we already know the demon…"

Out of nowhere, an eighteen-wheeler slammed into the passenger side of the Impala at full speed. After the impact the Impala continued to be pushed forward by the semi for a ways. The Impala was eventually forced into a ditch by the truck, causing things to come to a stop. Inside the car, the Winchester men lay bloody and passed-out, but Elle was nowhere inside. No, Elle had been ejected through the windshield upon impact and she currently lay in the middle of the road, unconscious, in a pool of blood, on a dark night with a car headed right for her.


	24. In My Time of Dying

Things seemed calm on the cool summer's night in Missouri. Fireflies flickered in and out of the tall trees. The stars sparkled overhead and the wind blew a gentle breeze. All seemed fine in the world, but it wasn't. The Winchester family was in peril, especially the baby of the family: Elle. She had been thrown from the Impala when a semi-truck collided with them. She currently lay in a pool of her own blood, unconscious on the middle of the highway with a car hurtling straight toward her. The car didn't seem to notice her because it continued at an ever increasing speed. The car was about a hundred yards from the broken Winchester girl when suddenly a young deer stepped onto the asphalt between Elle and the approaching car. The deer seemed almost mesmerized as the glided across the road. The car took notice of the deer and began to honk its horn, but the deer stopped. The car tried to slow down, but there wasn't time. Instead, it swerved out of the way and went flying into the ditch. The deer's head turned toward the car before it continued to walk off the road and back into the forest. Somewhere out there, someone was protecting Elle Winchester despite the odds against her.

A few minutes later Sam Winchester regained consciousness and he was face to face with the man possessed by a demon who had caused his mess. Sam drew the Colt and aimed it at the man who taunted the Winchester boy saying that he wouldn't waste a bullet-the last bullet on him. But Sam stayed firm, going as far as cocking the gun. The demon quickly vacated the truck driver's body in a cloud of black smoke. Sam breathed a sigh of relief as he uncocked the gun and leaned restfully back against the driver's seat. The man once possessed began to freak out over the sight of the wreckage in front of him. He questioned Sam if he was the one who had caused this mess-but Sam was too concerned for his family. He saw Dean beside him bloodied and unconscious. He saw his father in the rearview mirror in much the same state as Dean.

What scared him was that he didn't see his baby sister, Campbell-whom he almost always called Elle, unless he was insanely pissed at her. He called her name, but there was no response. Maybe she was unconscious beside her father. He tried to move himself to get a better look but when the Impala had crashed into the ditch, Sam's leg had gotten trapped. He tried to pull his leg out, but it was no use. Sam then felt around in the backseat with his extended arm-but he didn't feel his little sister. Sam turned to ask the truck driver where Elle was, but the driver was running to another car in the ditch. It was then Sam spotted her lying face down on the asphalt. He called her name, but like Dean and his father-there was no response. Feeling frustrated, Sam could feel the tears beginning to sting his eyes. They better all be okay because he didn't know if he could survive without them. They were his family...no matter what.

Sam watched as another car came hurtling down the darkened highway. He began to scream Elle's name hoping that maybe she could hear him and miraculously wake-up in time to get off the road before the car smashed into her, but suddenly out of nowhere the car swerved into the ditch. Odd. Another car swerved into the ditch? What were the chances of that happening? Sam hoped that the people inside both cars were alright. He tried to move the metal of the car that trapped his leg, but it was no use. He suddenly began to feel very tired. The weight of everything that had happened the past couple days: finding the demon, losing the demon, losing Elle, finding Elle, going head-to-head with the demon...it all hit him at once. He tried to stay awake, but sheer exhaustion won the battle and Sam Winchester, faded into blackness.

Daylight had broken by the time medical personnel happened to arrive on the scene, almost as if out of sheer luck. Besides the Impala and the eighteen-wheeler, a total of seven other cars had made their way into the ditch. The men inside the ambulance slowed down when they found Elle Winchester sprawled out on the middle of the road. They practically jumped out of the ambulance and ran over to the injured young woman. They looked at her and then looked at each other before one of them got down on his knees to see if the poor girl was still breathing. She was.

"What the hell happened to her?" the second guy asked.

"Looks like more than just a car accident to me," the first guy responded.

"Stay with her. I'm gonna go check on the others."

The second guy walked over to the Impala and saw the three Winchester men, all battered and bruised. He then looked out onto the road to see the other cars in the ditches.

"Dude, Marcus, we need back-up. Big Time. We got three guys in this car and there are still like seven more cars to go."

Marcus, who was beside Elle, was about to respond when she began to convulse. He did what he was medically trained to do in this sort of situation and when she was done, he checked to see if the girl was breathing. She wasn't. He checked her pulse—but there was nothing. He swore loudly and unzipped the girl's sweatshirt to perform CPR. He swore once again. Some sick bastard had put this poor girl through hell. He had to save her. He called for his associate to grab the AED while he performed the compressions on her. While Marcus gave Elle compressions, the other guy called in a medevac as he rushed the AED back to the scene.

Everything seemed to be going in slow motion. Then out of nowhere a man dressed in black pants and a purple button-up shirt began to walk purposely down the paved road toward Elle's body, but no one noticed him. It was as if he didn't exist or he couldn't be seen. He wore a bright smile on his face which seemed almost as bright as the stars that were beginning to fade. He stopped behind Marcus and tap danced for a few seconds behind him, but the guy didn't notice. The man laughed and clapped his hands together.

"Best part of the job. But now, down to business."

The man looked down at Elle with a look of curiosity on his face. She was covered from head-to-toe in sigils. He got down on his haunches and examined her a little more closely, stroking his chin for theatrics, in case someone was watching.

"Mmmm…this is going to be rather tricky," the form mused as he circled Elle. "What have you gotten yourself into? I mean, of course I already know…but still, you're a mess, Elle Winchester."

"Leave her be, Ephraim," a voice resounded.

The form looked down at Elle's body and then back up at the sky. He shook his head.

"And why would I do that?" Ephraim argued. "I have a job to do."

"You know our orders…"

"I only have my orders because you failed at yours."

"Ephraim, you are in my debt, lest you forget."

"What happened in Nineveh was thousands of years ago."

"I see you also have not forgotten."

Ephraim grumbled and kicked some of the loose gravel on the road.

"Just this once…for now. Don't expect me to let it happen again. But it's not like you're getting anywhere near her with those angel sigils she's sporting."

"Campbell did not heed my warning. She is as obstinate as a mule."

"I think that's sugar-coating it a bit."

"No, she is not covered in a sweetened confection, Ephraim."

"Dude, you need to get back to earth once in a while. You know what? On second thought…scratch that. You stay up there and out of my way and let me do my job. Although, can't say I'm going to be getting Employee of the Month for this."

The sound of a last gasp of breath echoed for only Ephraim to hear. The reaper smiled up toward heaven.

"You've grown rather attached to her, haven't you, brother?" Ephraim chuckled.

"He lived a long, full life and was loved by many faithfully doing the our father's work. It was his time," the voice grumbled.

"Well, at least my services aren't completely useless."

Ephraim looked down at Elle Winchester's body once more before he shook his head and walked toward one of the cars that was crashed in the ditch. He went to reap the pastor while a medevac chopper landed in the middle of the highway and the sound of other ambulances continued to become closer. Pastor Leroy Schoell willingly walked away unnoticed with Ephraim as more medical personnel exited the helicopter. Two women ran over to the scene.

"How long have you been at it?" one woman asked.

"Eight minutes," Marcus responded. "And no response."

"Keep going."

"Oh, I am. I'm not losing her after the hell it looks like she's been through."

Marcus pulled a cross on a chain from inside his shirt and kissed it before he continued the compressions as the women and other guy ran to check on the other cars while two other ambulances and firetrucks came to a stop. As the paramedics approached the vehicles, the passengers in the cars seemed to come out of a deep sleep—not really remembering what had happened. That was, everyone but the Winchesters. Sam was the only one fully lucid as they began pulling them from the wreckage. They had to use the Jaws of Life to break Sam free of the wreckage and put him on a stretcher which he fought as he tried to find his family. He walked away for a moment to puke when the paramedics came back to his side. He questioned the paramedics where his sister, father, and brother were as he was being loaded into the back of an ambulance. It was then he caught sight of Elle still on the ground with someone performing CPR. He called her name as they shut the door to the ambulance. He tried to fight them to run to his sister, but one of the paramedics sedated him and once again he faded into blackness.

Sweat beaded on Marcus's forehead as he continued compressions. They were almost at the thirty minute mark. At thirty minutes he was going to have to call it. He couldn't let that happen to this one. Marcus's partner walked past them with John Winchester on a stretcher, heading for the ambulance.

"I think you gotta call this one, dude," his partner said. "There are others…"

"No, not gonna happen," Marcus responded. "Come on. Come on. Don't you give up on me, you hear? I ain't giving up on you."

Suddenly there was a loud gasp for breath as the girl's head shot straight up. Marcus quickly put his hand underneath her head so that she wouldn't smack her head hard against the pavement.

"Oh thank you Jesus. I almost thought I lost you there," Marcus breathed a sigh of relief.

He gently wiped Elle's forehead as her eyes focused on him for a moment. Her eyes began to water from all the pain and her thoughts turned to her last conscious moment—in her father's arms.

"Daddy," Elle muttered.

The girl faded back into an unconscious state, but she was breathing—and that was all that mattered. Marcus quickly got a stretched and carefully got the young woman onto the stretcher before rushing her to the helicopter. There was no telling how long she'd remain stable. Having already lost her once—she was a priority. Marcus wasn't sure why, but he hopped onto the medevac with the girl—it was as if some higher being was calling him to do so—or at least that's what he told himself. He got the girl hooked up to an IV bag and continued to check on her vitals. They were holding—for now. He started to examine her a little further to be able to give the ER doctors more information—but the girl's wounds were puzzling and troubling. She had glass in her wounds. It looked like someone had tried to stitch her up with dental floss. The bones in her wrist didn't look quite right. There was a large gash on her forehead where he assumed was where she had been thrown from the car. But the mutilation inflicted to this poor girl pre-crash was what worried him. What sort of sick person would do such a thing?

Marcus hung his head in his hands. The others wouldn't understand why he was so persistent about this one. They didn't know about Ava. As the chopper landed, Marcus was quick to help get this girl into the O.R. as fast as possible. As they rolled the young woman through the hallway, he gave them all the information that he could on her—but even the doctors seemed baffled by the girl's condition. Never had they seen something quite like this before. The nurses and surgeons stopped him from going into the sterile room. He was going to have to wait—as if he were some sort of family member. Marcus told the last nurse to go inside to keep him updated if anything happened to the girl. This one had to make it out all right…she just had to.

Having been on his way back to the station for the end of his shift when they came upon the accident, Marcus was exhausted. He bought a cup of coffee from the hospital vending machine and moved to the waiting room and sat down in a chair. He took a sip of coffee before he bowed his head in prayer, grasping his cross necklace—he wasn't sure how things worked upstairs, but it couldn't really hurt things. He asked the big guy to make sure this woman pulled through and just in case the big guy was being stubborn, he asked Ava to do a little convincing on his behalf. This young woman needed it—she didn't deserve to go like that. She deserved better. Then again…so did Ava.

Enough time eventually passed that a rather tall, disheveled, and somewhat bloody young man came running down the hall and up to the desk. He asked the woman behind the desk where his sister, father, and brother were. Marcus cocked an eyebrow at the guy as he explained that they had been in an accident and he was the only one from his car to make it out unscathed. The woman told the guy that she didn't have any information for him at this moment and told him to sit down. The guy kicked at the desk in frustration, startling the woman before he quickly apologized and went to sit beside Marcus. Then the guy watched Marcus intently for a few moments before speaking.

"You. You were there," Sam said hoarsely. "You were with my sister. How is she?"

"She was in pretty bad shape last time I saw her," Marcus said.

"How bad?"

"Lost her for a while there…not that I should be telling you any of this."

"What about my dad and brother?"

"Look kid, I was too busy saving your sister's life to even know that you had a brother and father. Besides, for all I know you're the one who messed her up in the first place."

There was an uncomfortable silence. Sam's gaze shifted to the ground as he rested his elbows against his knees.

"It wasn't me. I would never do something like that to my baby sister. I swear to God."

"Then how'd she get like that?"

"It's complicated."

"That's a new one."

"Our—our line of work…"

"Involves torturing another human being?"

"Listen man, she's my sister. Not yours. So back off."

Sam stood up and walked away from Marcus toward the vending machines in the corner. He ordered himself a coffee as the phone in his pocket began to buzz. He pulled the phone out to see that it was Bobby calling him back from the round of phone calls he had made earlier. Sam answered the phone and told Bobby about what happened. In the middle of the conversation the woman behind the desk said that he would be allowed to go back and see his family. He quickly told Bobby that he'd see him later and hung up. Completely forgetting about the coffee, Sam ran over to where one of the doctors stood waiting for him. Sam took a look back at the paramedic who gave Sam a slight nod before the Winchester boy followed the doctor.

"Why don't we start with your father," the doctor said. "And then we'll make a quick swing by your brother's room on our way there."

"What about my sister?" Sam questioned.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"No, you're going to tell me about her now."

"She's still on the operating table, there's not much more to tell."

"Still?"

"Son, her stitches alone will require a lot of time."

"I want to know the second that she's done."

"I'll see what we can do."

"No, I want your word that I will be told the first second I'm able to see her."

"Calm down, son."

Sam clenched his fists and cracked his neck, trying to calm himself. He normally wasn't like this—but family was different. You protected and looked after family at all costs—or at least that was what he had come to learn since spending the past months with Dean and Elle. Besides, they had to be all right. If they weren't, it would be his fault. His fault that he had missed the demon and the domino effect afterwards. The doctor motioned with his head for Sam to continue following him. They stopped outside of a room that Sam didn't need to go any further into. It was Dean's room. A room where Dean was hooked up to all sorts of machines. Sam's hand flew over his mouth as he shook his head. This couldn't be happening.

"Your father's this way," the doctor finally said. "He's awake."

"But what about my brother?" Sam questioned.

The doctor explained that Dean had sustained really bad injuries—not only from the crash though Sam didn't tell the professionals. The man continued to tell Sam that Dean had lost a lot of blood and that there were contusions to his liver and kidney. So far nothing that seemed would keep Dean off his feet, but then the doctor gave the real kicker. Dean was suffering from early signs of cerebral edema…and according to the doctor there was nothing that they could do. At least not until Dean woke up—and the doctor didn't seem too hopeful about that happening. Sam kept his mouth shut, but there was no way Dean wasn't waking up. He would do whatever it took to get his brother back up and operational again. Those were realistic expectations—for a Winchester.

Sam seemed to be going through the motions as the doctor patted his shoulder before leading him down the hallway again. He rubbed at his face as the man led him into another room. Sam fully expected to see his father in the same condition as Dean, but he wasn't. Instead, he was lying in the hospital bed with his arm in a sling and his other hand hooked up to an IV for fluids. Other than being banged up a bit, John Winchester looked almost fine. Sam turned to see the doctor walking away from him before he inched closer to his father who was awkwardly pulling something out of his wallet.

"Give them my insurance," John groaned as he handed a card toward Sam. "I'm sure they're chomping at the bit for it."

"Will do, Elroy McGillicutty?" Sam said as he accepted the insurance information.

"And his two loving sons and beautiful daughter. Speaking of, what did they tell you about Dean and Elle?"

"Nothing—look, the doctors aren't going to do anything about Dean. So we're gonna have to do it. I'll find some hoodoo priest or someone to lay some mojo on him."

John nodded his head sullenly.

"And Elle? How's my little girl?"

"I don't know anything except for the fact that she's still in surgery."

"That's not a good sign."

Sam didn't notice his father's eyes beginning to mist as he thought about his daughter. The little girl whom he had pushed away all those years to protect her. The little girl who probably hated him. The little girl who reminded him so much of Mary. The little girl whom he loved more than anything in this world.

"We're gonna find someone though," Sam said interrupting John's thoughts on his daughter.

"But Sam, I don't know if we're actually going to find anyone."

"Why not? I found a faith healer before."

Although, technically it was just a normal human tied to a Reaper.

"All right, that was—that was one in a million and those odds aren't good enough."

"So what then? Do we just sit here with our thumbs up our ass?"

"I said we'd look, Sammy. I'll check under every rock and stone for a way to fix this, but I need to know where you put the Colt."

"You have two kids dying and you're worried about that stupid gun?"

"It's no accident that we're all in here. That demon is hunting us too and that gun may be our only get out of jail free card."

"I put it in the trunk when I was pretending I needed to puke, but they dragged the car to a yard off I-83."

"That trunk needs to get cleaned out before some junk man sees what's inside."

"I already talked to Bobby. He's like an hour out and he's gonna tow the Impala back to his place."

"All right you go meet up with Bobby and you get that Colt and bring it back to me. Watch out for hospital security bringing it back though."

"I wasn't born yesterday."

"Sometimes it seems like it."

Sam shook his head and sighed before he turned on his heel to head toward the door.

"Wait! Just a few things yet. There's something else I need from the trunk," John said.

"Like what?"

"There's a sealed envelope addressed to your sister in the pages of one of the exorcism books. Don't read it and don't give it to her. I need to be the one to do that."

"What's in it?"

"That's between me and your sister when the time comes. I also made you a list of things I need—you should have Bobby pick them up for me."

John handed Sam the hospital pad of paper he had scrawled on. Sam looked the list over. Acacia? Oil of Abramelin? He asked his father what this stuff was for and before John could respond, the doctor poked his head back in the room. Sam shoved the paper in his back pants pocket and turned to face the man as he said that Elle was being moved out of the operating room and to regular room to recover. Sam looked at his father who appeared to be trying to get out of the bed.

"Sir, I must ask that you stay put," the doctor said as he ran toward John.

"I want to see my daughter," John demanded moving his hand toward the IV, ready to rip it out.

"You will be able to see her later."

"Now. I will see her with or without your help."

"I—just—just give me a moment and I'll have one of the nurses get you a wheelchair."

The doctor breathed a sigh of relief as John settled back down on his bed. A few minutes later a friendly looking nurse came in rolling a wheelchair. Sam helped John into the chair before he started pushing his father down the hallway following the direction of the doctor. The man ushered them toward a room, pulling John's IV bag and pole in first. Sam turned John's wheelchair before he caught a glimpse of his sister. She was hooked up to just as many machines as Dean was and she was covered from almost head to toe in stitches and she had some sort of bandaging around her head.

"Elle," Sam gasped.

Sam moved to lunge toward his sister, but John held out his arm, bracing the doorframe to keep Sam from running inside.

"Sam, you have a job to do," John stated through gritted teeth as he held his son back.

"But Elle…" Sam started.

"Sam, this is important. Important for the sake of our family."

"Yes, sir."

John turned to look back at Sam who stood there for a moment with his hands balled into fists. He told Sam he wasn't going to repeat himself before Sam sighed and roughly wiped at his cheek. The younger Winchester then turned to walk away when he saw the paramedic walking toward them.

"What the hell do you think you're doing man?" Sam hissed. "You shouldn't be here."

"Whoa, easy, tough guy," Marcus said with his hands up in defense. "I'm just here to check on her."

"Sam, what's going on?" John questioned with his head turned toward his son.

"This guy…" was all Sam got out.

"I'm Marcus Gutierrez," Marcus said extending his right hand before switching to his left for John's sake. "I'm the paramedic who…"

"Sam, I think I can handle things from here," John said gruffly.

Sam looked to his father who was giving him a normal John Winchester look of something worse than disappointment. He walked away as Marcus took his necklace out of his shirt and kissed it before the paramedic wheeled John into Elle's room. Marcus pushed John until he was at the girl's side. John reached his good hand out and took Elle's limp hand in his. He squeezed his little girl's hand. Without hearing a word from the doctor, he knew that the prognosis couldn't be good.

"What's her name?" Marcus asked. "Maybe the big guy would listen a little better if I know her name. You know, this way he ain't getting crossed signals."

"Elle, her name is Elle," John barely choked out.

John had to turn his face to keep the tears from falling, but rubbing his face against his shoulder. He could see the doctor out of the corner of his eye. After clearing his throat, he motioned the doctor closer. The guy took a few steps toward John, making eye contact with Marcus to leave. So, the paramedic left leaving John and the doctor alone with Elle.

"What's the damage?" John asked. "How's my little girl?"

"I'm not going to lie to you. She had massive blood loss and internal bleeding when she got to us. She broke a rib which punctured her lung, her wrist was practically shattered, her skull was fractured, and there are thousands of stitches holding her together right now. It's a wonder she's made it this far. We lost her again on the table, but she's pulled through to this point—" the doctor explained.

"So the worst is behind us then?"

"You didn't let me finish. She went into a coma while we were operating. I'm sorry, but the only things keeping that girl alive right now are those machines she's hooked up to. You and your family need to consider—"

"No. Absolutely not. I am not going to kill my daughter. I will not do that to her."

"If that's what you decide…"

"It is."

"She'll be in excruciating pain if she does manage…"

"My decision is final, Doc."

"Whatever you say, Mr…?"

"McGillicutty."

"Well, Mr. McGillicutty, you need to get some rest. I will personally see to it that you are informed of any changes in either of your children's conditions."

John looked at Elle and squeezed her hand once more before he nodded toward the doctor. The doctor wheeled John from the room. The man looked broken as he took one last look back at his little girl. John couldn't let Elle die like this. Not without getting a chance to explain. Not without her knowing how he truly felt about her. The doctor rounded the corner and then they both disappeared from view.

Elle breathed a sigh of relief from under her bed which caused her hair to blow upward. At least that was over. Leave it to John Winchester to put on such an extraordinary act of grief in front of people. If she hadn't actually known the man, she probably would have believed his words and concern too. Elle pushed herself out from underneath the hospital bed and stood up before she looked at herself lying in the bed. It really was a strange sensation to see one's self dying right before your own eyes, but there really wasn't much she could do about that, was there? Death. Death was imminent and her near future. The act of dying itself didn't scare her so much. She knew it was bound to happen eventually. It was the leaving behind of Sam and Dean that scared her. How would they live without her? Could they even?

She rubbed her face and looked down to see herself in a white sundress with no marks covering her body. At least something seemed right being near death. She jumped a little bit after she thought she heard a rustling noise, but she turned to see nothing. After a deep breath, she ran her fingers through her hair which went down her back in soft curls. She had to find her brothers. She had to see how they were doing. She needed to communicate with them somehow—tell them that she loved them. Elle took another deep breath and stepped into the hallway, looking left and right. Having seen John go to the left, she decided to go the opposite way of him and padded down the hallway to the right in her bare feet.

As she passed by the nurses and visitors, no one seemed to pay her any attention. It was like she didn't even exist to them—which made sense if her body was still back in that bed only being kept alive by machines. Although, with her suspicion confirmed she felt rather foolish for her earlier actions of hiding under the bed when her father arrived. She didn't want to take any chances were John Winchester was concerned. The rustling sound came back for a moment and Elle did a circle looking for the source of the noise, but, alas; nothing. Maybe death was making her paranoid—but she had to find her brothers before she actually did die. Elle slowly descended the main staircase of the hospital before she came into a chapel. The chapel had a wall completely made of glass panes. In front of the windows hung a crucifix extended from the ceiling with a Jesus figure on it complete with a six-pack of abs. Even if Jesus was real—Elle was pretty sure the guy wasn't that ripped.

Elle turned to see a painting of angels hovering over someone. The sight caused her to roll her eyes. So much for the concept of a guardian angel. If she really did have a guardian angel, she wouldn't be in this situation. Hell, if she had a guardian angel, they wouldn't let her live the life that she did. They would poof her somewhere else and protect her from all the shit life threw at her. Although, life didn't work that way and angels weren't real…that or they were giant dicks. But for some reason, Elle couldn't help but take a few steps closer to look at the engraving under the painting which listed the angels: Michael, Raphael, Gabriel, Uriel, Raguel, Remiel, Saraquel, Castiel…

"Boo!"

Elle lost her shit and began to jump and scream.

"Holy Jesus. Effing Shit. Damnit. Son-of-a-bitch."

It was at that moment the sound of laughter began to reverberate…a laugh she knew all too well. A laugh that belonged to Dean. Sure enough, when Elle turned around she saw her brother standing there dressed in all white. They made quite the pair.

"That's not funny, Dean. You scared me half to…"

"Death?" Dean said with a grin. "Ba dum tsh."

"How long have you been following me?"

"Since you left your room."

"You're an ass, you know that?"

"But a cute ass, right?"

Elle gave her brother a pointed look before she rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest.

"So where are we exactly?" Elle questioned.

"In between, I guess," Dean said with a shrug.

Weird. Dean was acting way too calm about this. Cracking jokes? She stared at him for a few moments, before she fully understood what he was doing. He was trying to put on a brave face for her and sarcasm was his immediate defense mechanism. It was sweet of him, it was—but the brother she knew would be freaking out a little more about death. Then it hit Elle like a ton of bricks: she and Dean were both going to die. What was going to happen to Sammy? Granted he had done it once, but that was pre-Jess, pre-everything that had happened. Elle's eyes began to water and her bottom lip started to quiver. Dean rushed over to her and rested his hands on her arms before he looked her straight in the eyes.

"Hey. Hey, what is it?" Dean said softly.

"Sammy...Dean, if we both die…" Elle started.

"Don't talk like that."

Dean placed his hand over his sister's mouth.

"Sam's gonna fix this. He found someone once. He's gonna do it again."

"Athoiey hm himnt."

"What?"

Elle licked Dean's hand which caused his hand to fly from her mouth before he began wiping his hand on his pants. He shot her a look of disgust as Elle explained how Sam technically hadn't found a faith healer and instead had found a freaking Reaper. Dean easily dismissed her and decided that a trip to their father's room was in order. Elle decided that she was going to pass on the outing, which didn't really surprise Dean, but he told her that they had strength in numbers. Still, Elle refused to go to John's room…especially if there wasn't a necessity to do so. Instead, she remained in the chapel—not because it was closer to God or whatnot, but because it was probably the quietest place in the joint. Granted, the seating wasn't the most comfortable.

Swinging her feet onto the pew, Elle sat on the bench the wrong way, leaning her head back against the arm rest. The situation was so messed-up and she was confused as hell. Elle looked toward the cross for a moment before looking back to the wood paneling on the wall. She should probably censor the cursing from her thoughts…just in case. Death had always seemed so simple before—either you're alive or you're dead—none of this in between crap. It was the in-between stuff that was throwing her for a loop. She wished she'd just die or get better already because this shit was annoying.

"Hey, at least I didn't say the 'fuck' word," Elle muttered. "Damnit."

She facepalmed herself and mentally kicked herself for cursing when the door to the chapel swung open. Elle turned to watch as a man in a paramedic sweatshirt walked inside and sat down in the back pew. The man looked familiar, but she couldn't place how she knew him or where she had seen him before. She didn't know why, but she stood up and walked closer to the man as he dropped to his knees and pulled a necklace from his shirt. As she drew closer the man began to pray aloud—and what scared her was that he was praying for her. But why was someone she barely recognized praying for her? It didn't really make sense. Of course, she had prayed with Layla that one time…but that was different. Elle's head hurt trying to make sense of this prayer thing, but what confused her more was when the guy began talking to someone named Ava. Now, she hadn't been an avid Sunday School attender, but she couldn't remember anyone biblically important named Ava. Elle reached her hand out to touch the man when she spotted Dean in the corner of her eye. Startled she turned to her brother who was breathing heavily.

"Elle-Belle, we've got a problem," Dean stated.

Elle walked closer toward her brother as he motioned her to come closer with his hand. Dean then wrapped his arm around her shoulder and began to walk and talk to her about what he had just seen. Apparently, there was something of the supernatural nature in the hospital and it was killing people. Elle's first thought was—of course there would be something of that nature when the Winchesters were there. It was just their luck. Second, she didn't feel as immediate of a response as Dean did—which caught her older brother off guard.

"Elle, we're going to die if we don't fix this," Dean said.

"So?" Elle said with a shrug.

"So? Don't tell me that you're not freaking out right now. We're this close to dying."

"Do you know how many times I've been close to death? All those times I was bait or got taken in the process? Because I do. I came to terms with deaths inevitability a long time ago."

"So you want to die?"

"I didn't say that."

"Well, we gotta do something. I'm not just gonna stand here with my thumb up my ass."

"Good, because that would be disgusting."

"We're going to Dad."

"No, we're not."

"Yes, we are."

Knowing that she couldn't really hide from Dean and that it was pointless to fight him, Elle went along with her brother to John Winchester's room rather begrudgingly. Dean and Elle didn't really talk on their way to their father's room—but when they got there, the next step to Dean's brilliant plan was to wait. Not wanting to watch her father while they waited for Sam to come back, Elle lay down on the floor and counted the holes in the ceiling tiles to occupy herself. She was pretty sure that she was at 2,745 holes when Sam finally stepped into the room carrying a duffel bag. Elle turned to watch Dean attempt to approach Sam and start yelling at him about them being on a hunt.

"He can't hear you, you know," Elle scoffed.

"Really? Hadn't guessed," Dean groaned. "But it was worth a shot."

"Is it just me or does Sam looked pissed?"

"What?"

With a sneer on his face, Sam hurled the bag onto John's bed before it fell to the floor with a loud crash.

"Oh, he's pissed all right," Dean agreed. "But why?"

"Maybe, if you'd listen, you'd find out," Elle retorted.

Dean looked at Elle pointedly as Sam began chewing out their father. At first, John tried to play dumb, but Sam just kept on going. From what Elle gathered, apparently John had requested items—items that were used to summon a demon, not ward one off. According to Sam's theory, John was going to summon the demon and have some sort of showdown. Daddy-dearest argued that he had a plan, but Sam wasn't buying it. He brought up the fact that Dean and Elle were dying and that John was more concerned about the demon then two of his kids. The fact that John and Sam were arguing bothered Dean, but truth be told, Elle thought the man deserved it.

John then angrily hissed that he was doing what he was doing for his children…both his children. But Sam assumed that John was talking about his selfish obsession with the demon. That must've struck a nerve in their father…because then John began to go off on Sam about the demon. How the demon had killed Jess…and how Sam had begged to be part of the hunt…and how he had the chance to kill the damn thing but he didn't. Elle looked sheepishly to the floor—she also had the chance to kill it, but she hadn't. She wasn't sure why, but she didn't kill two birds with one stone: her father and the demon. The argument between John and Sam began to intensify—Elle shirked away from things and literally backed herself into a corner, but Dean got angry. So angry in fact, that he smacked a glass of water off the table. Elle's eyes widened as it went flying, crashing to the floor.

"What the hell did you just do?" Elle questioned.

"Dude, I just full-on Swayze'd that mother," Dean said with a smirk.

"I'm not a dude."

Suddenly, Dean crumpled to the floor in pain. Elle quickly rushed over to her brother as Dean asked what was happening. She didn't know—other than the fact that John told Sam to go find out what the big commotion was with the nurses and doctors. Putting two and two together in her brain, it wasn't that far of a stretch to think that something was wrong with Dean. Dean wrapped his arm around Elle's neck and had her help him to his feet before they followed Sam's lead and began to walk down the hallway. Elle saw the room that the doctors were running to before she looked at Dean who swore, confirming the fact that it was him in trouble. As he leaned heavily against her, she couldn't help but hold on to him a little tighter. She wasn't ready for Dean to leave her.

Elle and Dean approached the room behind Sam who was blocking the doorway. It was obvious that he was crying. Elle thought she heard the doctors saying something about Dean not having a pulse which made her grip on him tighten. Out of nowhere a ghostly figure swooped in and hovered over Dean's body lying in the bed. Dean began shouting for the thing to get away from him as he started running toward the thing. Elle stood there frozen as Dean managed to get a grip on the spirit for a moment before the thing hurled him back and soared out of the room. She tried to duck as the thing whirred by her and Dean's monitors seemed to normalize. Dean ran over to his sister and extended his hand to help her up, which she accepted. Once on her feet, Elle leaned against the doorframe as Dean took a step into the hallway before turning back to his sister.

"I grabbed it," Dean said.

"I saw," Elle commented.

"You know what that means?"

"That you're an idiot?"

"No, if I can grab it, I can kill it."

Elle pretended to wave one of those noisy party favors in her hand. Of course Dean anticipated them hunting this thing. They were about to die—couldn't they just leave it alone? Elle looked at her brother who was staring down the hallway. He looked in both directions with his eyes narrowed like he was searching for something.

"You hear that?" Dean asked.

"Hear what?" Elle questioned.

"I—uh—I'll meet back up with you later."

"What about figuring out how to hunt this thing?"

"Later."

"Sure, it was so important a minute ago."

But Dean must not have heard Elle's last comment because he was already sprinting down the hallway. Elle rolled her eyes at her brother—always had to play the hero, that one. She turned her back for a moment when her eyes widened at who was coming down the hallway. If she could feel her heart right now—it probably would be popping out of her chest. Tommy Collins, dressed in jeans, plaid shirt, and brown jacket came running down the hall in her direction holding onto his shoulder bag. Elle started to run toward him when Sam suddenly stepped out of the room. Tommy stopped just shy of Sam and stopped to catch his breath for a moment.

"I got on the first plane I could after you called me," Tommy said. "Cost me an arm and a leg, but Elle's worth it, you know?"

"Thanks man," Sam responded.

"Thanks for calling. How's she doing?"

"It's not looking good. Either of them. Dean's in bad shape too."

"What the hell happened to you guys?"

"It's a long story, man. One that I'm still trying to process."

"Can I—uh—can I see her?"

"Yeah, go ahead—but if anyone asks you're a cousin or something."

"Got it."

Sam clapped Tommy on the back before they walked down to the room Elle's body currently occupied. Elle's spirit followed behind the two boys. She watched from behind as Tommy stopped in his tracks to see how truly banged-up her body was. She watched as he slowly approached her body lying on the hospital bed and she could have sworn that she heard him sniffled a bit. Tommy asked Sam who did this and Sam told him about the demon and what he knew had happened. Sam left out quite a few details, but then again, Elle really hadn't had a chance to relay her full story to her brothers. Tommy then began asking other questions about where the thing was and how they could kill it. It looked as if Tommy was forcing himself into this fight on her behalf. She didn't want that for him. She wanted him to have a normal life. Hell it hadn't even been all that long since Elle had found him in his bad state. He could relapse. Although, in this job—anger was a good motivator.

Sam then turned to Tommy and began to whisper when Elle collapsed to the floor, just as Dean had earlier. The machines began to beep like crazy. Sam ran into the hallway and called for a doctor as one practically plowed him over trying to get into the room. One of the nurses who ran in began to question Tommy. Sam tried to explain that he was a cousin…but they kicked both boys out of the room. Sam and Tommy stood in the hallway watching from a distance. Elle's spirit tried to force herself into a standing position by using the doorframe as a brace when she could have sworn that she saw her mother standing on the other side of her bed. The word mommy escaped her lips when the beeping stopped and everything returned to normal and her mother disappeared. Suddenly, Dean came running down the hallway.

"I almost thought that I lost you too," Dean said catching his breath.

"Well, I'm still here," Elle retorted.

Tommy and Sam walked back into the room, since things had settled down a bit. Sam made sure that Elle was going to be stable, before he left. Why was he leaving? But then Elle thought she understood. He was giving Tommy some alone time with her. Tommy sat down in the uncomfortable-looking armchair beside her bed. Elle could see his face, which looked somewhat contorted in pain. She leaned against the doorframe as she watched Tommy pull the copy of Harry Potter and Goblet of Fire off the table. He opened it to the bookmark Sam had left in its pages and began to read to her body which was hooked-up to multiple tubes and machines. She couldn't help but smile, but something inside her hurt. What if she didn't make it through this? What would happen to Tommy? To Sam? Death almost seemed a selfish option. Almost, but if there was a time to finally play her selfish card, was this it? She was sure if she were in her real body, tears would be streaming down her cheeks.

"What's he doing here?" Dean asked.

"Beats me," Elle said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"We're inches from death and you're going to lie to me?"

"I honestly don't know what he's doing here. I didn't exactly get a chance to call him, now did I?"

"So then who did?"

"God."

"Ha. Funny. Who is he?"

"You know who he is. His name is Tommy."

"Why is Tommy here to see you?"

Elle sighed.

"Seeing as we're probably going to die anyway, I might as well come out with it. Tommy and I are—complicated."

"Complicated? How complicated?"

"Like together but not. I don't know exactly, it's confusing. But I know I really liked him."

"Past tense, really? I ain't stupid."

"Fine, I still like him and if all this crap hadn't happened, I was planning to…"

"Planning to do what?"

"I was going to quit hunting and try my hand at a normal life with Tommy."

"That's more than just complicated. That's serious. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just did."

Dean gave his sister a pointed expression which made Elle begin to fumble for words.

"I—I don't, I just, because you obviously would have taken the news so well," Elle finished with a tone of sarcasm.

"You still should've told me."

"I thought about it…but I didn't want you scaring this one away. But it's not like that matters. Don't we have something we should be hunting?"

Elle started to walk away from her brother, down the hallway.

"This conversation isn't over," Dean shouted after her.

"But I can pause it indefinitely, preferably forever" Elle retorted.

"Hey! Don't you walk away from me. I didn't even get the chance to tell you that I figured out what we're hunting."

"You know that probably would've been the way to start this entire conversation, but you were too wrapped up in Tommy."

"Bringing the conversation back to him, I see."

"No. What are we hunting?"

"Reapers."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Afraid I'm not, I've seen a couple."

"I'm not questioning your ability classify what's lurking around the corner. I'm questioning the fact that you seem to think that we can hunt a freaking Reaper. That's effing crazy and you know it."

"We've done it before."

"Yeah and the only reason you're still standing here is because the Reaper was a vengeful piece of crap that didn't like being tied down to a witch with a b."

"So, you're not going to help me?"

"I didn't say that. I just wanted you to know that I think you're crazy before we do anything stupid."

"How reassuring."

"I try. I try."

Dean shook his head and ruffled Elle's curls for which she swatted at his hand. He chuckled before musing about if it was possible to get a piece of pie in their current state. Elle rolled her eyes at her brother's words. Of course he would be thinking of his stomach. Dean caught sight of Tommy Collins somewhat sneaking out of Elle's room, looking rather nervous, but Elle wasn't paying him any attention.

"Where's your boyfriend going?" Dean asked.

"He's not my…" Elle started before she caught sight of Tommy. "He looks like he's up to something."

"That he does."

"And I suppose you want to follow him?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders before he took off in a sprint after Tommy. Elle shook her head and followed behind her brother. Tommy led them into Dean's room where he quickly shut the door behind him before going to stand in a corner that wasn't visible from the door.

"Elle, what's your boyfriend planning on doing to me?" Dean asked.

Elle rolled her eyes again…because obviously she could control what Tommy was doing. Suddenly, Sam came through the door carrying a brown paper bag in his arms. He looked at Tommy and nodded his head. Dean made a comment about it being a party now. Then Sam did something that surprised them—he began talking to them. He said that he thought they were in the room and he had a way that they could talk. Sam pulled a Ouija board out of the paper bag. Dean snorted as Elle looked over to Tommy who looked somewhat skeptic and rightfully so, he hadn't grown-up in this lifestyle like the rest of them. Sam moved to sit in front of Dean's bed and motioned for Tommy to follow him. Tommy sat beside Sam as the middle Winchester sibling pulled the board from the box and set it on the floor.

"Dean? Elle? You guys here?" Sam questioned.

"God, I feel like I'm at a slumber party," Dean responded sarcastically. "He knows this isn't going to work, right?"

"Loser," Elle muttered.

She quickly pushed the pointer over the word YES—which made Sam gasp.

"I'll be damned," Dean commented.

"Most likely," Elle muttered.

"Not funny. These death jokes gotta stop."

"Whatever."

"Are you two ok?" Tommy questioned interrupting Dean and Elle.

Dean and Elle looked to each other before Dean moved the pointed over the word NO. Both Sam and Tommy began to ask them what was wrong. Too many questions at one time, but Dean began to move the pointer to spell H-U-N-T. Sam questioned if they were hunting something and Elle took the pointer from Dean and shuffled it over the word YES. Tommy looked rather uncomfortable at the thought. Dean scolded her for going too fast and freaking the poor guy out, but Elle knew better. Tommy built up some courage and asked them what exactly they were hunting. Dean then began to move the pointer to the letters R-E-A-P.

"It's a Reaper," Sam whispered.

Elle quickly moved the pointer over to the word YES. Tommy asked Sam what a Reaper was. Sam looked to him and sighed before he explained the job of a Reaper and what it meant if one could see a Reaper. Tommy's eyes widened.

"Is it out for you?" Tommy questioned.

The pointer moved a little to the left before it centered on the word YES again.

"There's got to be something we can do," Tommy said.

"If it's here naturally, there's no way to stop it," Sam groaned rubbing his face.

"You can't exactly kill death," Dean commented. "But I'm not going down without a fight."

"But we know absolutely nothing about fighting Reapers," Elle said.

"But Dad might know what to do," Sam said.

"What about me?" Tommy questioned.

"You just hang around until I need you."

Tommy nodded as Sam ran out of Dean's room. Elle and Dean sat before Tommy who looked down at the Ouija board somewhat hesitantly. Like he wasn't sure what he was doing.

"Are you both still here?" Tommy asked.

Again, Elle moved the pointer a bit before it centered over the word YES again.

"I—uh—Dean, would you mind giving me a little time with Elle?" Tommy asked.

"Yes, I would mind," Dean commented.

Elle rolled her eyes before she moved the pointer over the letters O-K.

"I did not agree to that," Dean stated.

"Please?" Elle asked. "Besides, maybe you can figure some stuff out with Sam and Dad."

"I'm only doing this so we can kick some Reaper ass—not because I support this relationship."

"Thank you."

Dean shook his head and stood up and walked out of the room behind Sam. Tommy seemed to be counting down before asking his next question.

"Is he gone?" Tommy asked.

"Yes," Elle said as she moved the pointer.

"Good. I mean not that I want your brother gone or anything…I just wanted to talk to you. I just…I miss you."

Elle sighed, trying to formulate an accurate response before she spelled you M-E-2. She felt like she was talking in text, but it was going to have to do. It got the point across quicker.

"Are you in pain?" Tommy asked.

"No," Elle said sliding the pointer.

"Are you scared?"

"I don't know," Elle said sliding the pointer over I-D-K.

"Just promise me that you're not going to do anything stupid."

Elle couldn't help but let a chuckle escape. He should be telling that to Dean. But she moved the pointer over O-K. Tommy asked her another question, but Elle wasn't paying him attention. Instead, her eyes were glued to her mother leaning against the doorframe. Her mother looked so beautiful. Her blonde hair was softly curled, like her own and she was wearing a long, white, flowy dress. Elle stood up and ran to her mother, but the woman held her hand out to stop her with a smile on her face.

"Don't be rude, sweetheart," Mary's figure said as she pointed to Tommy.

The Winchester daughter quickly nodded her head before she went back to the Ouija board and spelled out G-2-G. Tommy must've understood, but he didn't know why. But Elle didn't explain anything more. Instead, she walked back to her mother. She wanted to envelope the woman in a hug, but instead, Mary just nodded toward the hallway and asked Elle to go for a walk with her. Elle immediately accepted the offer. How often would she get a chance to spend time with her mother? Then Elle realized that she had the potential to spend forever with her mother.

"I'm so glad to see you," Elle said somewhat shyly.

"And I'm glad to see you…my little girl," Mary responded.

"I've missed you. If that makes any sense? Missing someone you don't really know."

"Then, we must be two of a kind."

"What—what are you doing here?"

"I'm just here to make sure you get there safely."

"Where?"

"I think you know."

"With you?"

The older woman simply smiled. Something about her just mesmerized Elle. It was as if she wasn't fully in control of her senses with her mother there.

"What's it like?" Elle asked.

"What is what like?" Mary questioned.

"Death? Does it hurt? I mean, the actual dying part…no offense, because this part sucks."

"I agree, this part of the process is long and annoying. But the dying part hurts no more than falling asleep."

"Will you be there with me?"

"Every step of the way."

"And if I don't come?"

Mary stopped for a second and looked at Elle sternly.

"Why wouldn't you come…with me?" Mary asked.

"Unfinished business, I guess," Elle said.

"Everyone dies with unfinished business—those that stay to try and finish it end up being the very things you hunt."

"But maybe I'd be different."

"You wouldn't. Everyone thinks they will be, but they aren't. Would you really want to do that to those you love? Make them miserable and then forced to kill you? Is that what you want, Elle?"

"But what about you? You didn't seem all evil spirit-y."

"I was different."

"So then why can't I be?"

"Elle, as your mother, I need you to trust me on this. I am only looking out for you."

"Okay. I mean, if I can't trust my own mother—who can I trust?"

"Shall we continue our walk then?"

Elle nodded her head in response as she continued to walk with her mother down the hallway while the tides were beginning to shift in the basement. John Winchester had done some interior decorating with a chalk symbol on the floor, candles, and a black bowl. He was reciting words in Latin as he slid a knife across his palm causing blood to drip into the bowl. He then lit a match and dropped it into the bowl causing the ingredients inside to flare. John stood up and a hand grabbed him. He quickly turned around to see a man who was questioning him, but John quickly pulled the Colt on him.

"How stupid do you think I am?" John said as he cocked the Colt.

"You really want me to answer that?" the Yellow Eyed Demon said, revealing his glowing eyes. "I have met your boys after all and the apple doesn't fall far from the tree in their cases."

"You got a point?"

"Just trying to make small talk, Johnny-boy. But you conjuring me? Color me surprised. I took you for a lot of things, John, but suicidally reckless wasn't one of them."

"I could always shoot you."

"And you could be just like Sammy and miss. You've only got one try, don't ya? Did you really think you could trap me?"

"I don't want to trap you."

John lowered the gun and uncocked it.

"I want to make a deal."

"Color me intrigued, Johnny-boy, color me intrigued."

"This can be yours."

John dangled the Colt in the air.

"For a price, I assume?" Yellow Eyes question.

"It is a deal," John retorted.

"It's very unseemly, making deals with devils. How do I know this isn't just another trick?"

"It's not trick. I will give you the Colt and the bullet, but you've got to help Dean and Elle. You've got to bring them both back."

"Why, John, you're a sentimentalist. If only your kids knew how much their daddy loved them. Especially, Elle—but I suppose she'd be the hardest to convince after the trail you've laid to prove otherwise to me. Well, where did that trail get you John? Nowhere."

"It's a good trade. You care a hell a lot more about this gun than you do either of them."

"That's where you're wrong, John. Dean-o killed some people very special to me and I don't think you want another long monologue about Elle, do you? But we can't leave out Sammy, now can we? You know the truth about him, right? And the other children?"

"I've known for a while."

"But he doesn't, does he? Keeping secrets from your kids, John? I thought it was supposed to be the family business."

"Can you bring them back? Yes or no?"

"No."

"Then forget it."

"Hold your horses, Winchester. I can't—but I know a guy who knows a guy and it won't be a problem."

"Good, but before I give you the gun, I'm going to want to make sure they're okay—with my own eyes."

"John, I'm offended. Don't you trust me?"

John gave the demon a pointed look.

"Fine," the demon said rolling his yellow eyes.

"So we have a deal?" John questioned.

"For Dean. You want Elle brought back, you're going to have to sweeten the pot."

"I thought you don't want her dead?"

"I don't, but she's not a pain in my ass when she's in a coma."

"What do you want for her?"

"There's something else I want, as much as that gun. Maybe more."

The demon smirked at John as the Winchester slowly exhaled the breath he had been holding. Meanwhile, back upstairs in the hospital, Elle and Mary made their to Elle's room. Elle was surprised to see the window shining with a very bright light—an almost blinding light.

"Just a little way yet," Mary said.

Elle nodded her head slowly as running footsteps began to echo down the hallway. She turned to see Dean come flying into the room, putting himself between Elle and Mary.

"Elle that's not Mom!" Dean shouted. "Get the hell away from my sister, you tool!"

"Dean…" Elle began.

It was then Elle fully understood why she was okay with the situation—it was because she could be reunited with her mother. Someone she never got a chance to know. Someone who never got to hold her when she had a bad day. Someone who never cried when she was dropped-off at school for the first time. Someone who never got to tell her to try her best. Someone who didn't get to pick her up again when a boy broke her heart for the first time. Someone who didn't get to see her graduate high school. There were so many things that her mother never got to do.

"That's not Mom, that's a Reaper," Dean said.

Elle's eyes widened as she slowly backed away from the figure that looked like her mother.

"You—you tricked me," Elle said slowly.

"How is that once again a Winchester manages to undo everything? I almost had her. This plan was perfect given the circumstances and of course Dean Winchester has to come and…"

"Reveal yourself, Ephraim," another woman dressed in white said. "Your deceit isn't going to get us anywhere now."

The figure looking like Mary rolled her eyes before she suddenly turned into a dark-skinned man who was sharply dressed. He had a sneer on his face as he began to circle the Winchesters. Dean made sure to keep himself between Elle and her Reaper.

"If you would've kept better watch of your charge, Tessa," Ephraim hissed.

"Brother, we have the same mission," Tessa sighed.

"Elle Winchester is mine."

Suddenly, shit seemed to hit the proverbial fan. Things began to shake and explode. Dean collapsed to the ground with his hands over his ears, shaking. Elle also fell to the ground, but her head didn't hurt like Dean's. Instead, she heard talking. Talking from up above.

"You tried to deceive me Ephraim," the voice thundered from above.

"Distract, not deceive. There's a difference," Ephraim said. "Besides, I repaid my debt to you. I spared her...for a while."

"But Father's orders…."

"Because you've never broken an order before? I should be the one with your job. I'd do better at it than you."

"I am your superior."

"For now. Once I have collected Elle Winchester, things will be different."

"You will not harm Campbell Winchester."

"Try and stop me."

The room suddenly began to shake violently again. A black smoke began to pour from the vents. Both Tessa and Ephraim looked rather scared.

"What have you done, Ca…"

Ephraim never finished his sentence because the black smoke of the demon began to flow into his mouth. His eyes began to glow yellow as he reached his hands out to touch both Elle and Dean—Tessa touched him to try and stop him, but she suddenly disappeared. Yellow Eyes told the Winchester kids that it was their lucky day before they both suddenly began to convulse. There was a blinding flash of light and then it was all over.

Elle awoke to John Winchester sitting at her bedside pushing her stray tendrils of hair out of her face. He had already talked with Sam and Dean. He left Elle for last. He looked at her with concern in his eyes. Physically, she was fine. Every problem she had—was gone, aside from the scars covering her body. She gave her father a confused and pissed-off glance. What the hell did he think he was doing? But something seemed different about him. She couldn't quite tell what it was—but something was different about him. His face wasn't the normal stony expression she was used to him wearing—especially around her. If she wasn't mistaken, his eyes looked red—almost like he had been crying. John's hand, rested on his daughter's face but Elle quickly swatted it away. He seemed almost hurt when he withdrew his hand. He opened his mouth to speak—but nothing came out—his lips only quivered.

"Do you need something?" Elle asked coldly.

"We need to talk, Elle," John responded softly.

Did he just call her Elle? She did a double take at her father—his expression was sad. What the hell was going on? Why was he acting like this?

"What is there to talk about? I have nothing I want to say to you nor is there anything I could possibly want to hear from you."

"I'm sorry."

"That's awfully vague. For what? For abandoning me? For being a complete ass? Your list of transgressions is a little hard to pinpoint."

"Elle—I mean it. Please, just listen. I have some things I need to tell you and there isn't much time."

"I'm listening—for now."

"First, I have something I want to give you."

John took a necklace and an envelope out of his pocket. He handed her the necklace first. It was just a silver key attached to a chain. John watched her expression and sighed before he handed the envelope over to her Elle opened it and examined it. It was only a name of some guy named Adam Milligan and his address in Minnesota. Why was he giving this to her? But as she examined the paper a little more, she realized that the paper looked exactly the same as the paper in his prized journal. Elle folded it back up and looked up at her father.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

"Two things—check in on him from time to time and whatever you do—don't tell your brothers."

"Why would I do either of those things?"

"Because I'm asking you to, baby girl. I know from this past year that you know how to keep a secret from Sam and Dean. Trust me—this one is for their own good. Now if there comes a time that they need to know, you can tell them. But they're not going to like it."

"Need to know what? Tell them what? You're being so cryptic right now."

"You'll understand when you meet him. I just needed someone to know."

"Why me?"

"Because I know that even though you'll be pissed—you'll understand and withhold from judging him right off the bat. He also has something for you. Call it collateral, just in case, but he has a piece to the puzzle we've been trying to solve."

By this point, John had tears in his eyes. Elle was pissed. Why was it that he was allowed to be emotional right now and yet she was never allowed to show her emotions? He was such a freaking hypocrite. John then did something that surprised her. He took her hand and held it in his. She tried to slip her hand out, but his clasp only tightened.

"This is going to be hard for you to hear," John started before sighing. "I'm sorry for the way I've treated you over the years, Elle. I thought it was for the best."

"You thought being an ass to me was for the best? You thought that treating me like shit—"

"You've got to understand that I couldn't lose you too, not like I lost your mother. This might be hard for you to believe, but I love you so much, Elle, you remind me so much of Mary. And I knew—I knew from the moment I got you that you would be my biggest weakness, my fatal flaw—that I loved you too much. So I did everything I possibly could to keep you safe—by casting you out. Every time I hurt you—it hurt me, but I had to do it. It was the one thing I could do in this world to keep you safe. I figured if the demons thought I didn't care for you—they wouldn't come knocking on your door, that they would leave you alone—and that maybe, just maybe, you'd have a shot in this world despite having a huge target hanging over you."

"So you're trying to tell me that every time you were an ass to me, it was because you loved me too much?" Elle scoffed.

"Elle, I always did the opposite of what I really wanted to do. When I wanted to take you in my arms and protect you—I'd push you away. Besides—I—I was scared that you would—"

"Get out!"

"Elle…"

"I said get out!"

"Baby girl…"

"Get out! I'm done with you! I hate you! I hate you and I never want to see you again!"

John sat there frozen for a few seconds unsure of what to do as the tears welled in his eyes. He fumbled to find the words to say, but he knew that Elle was done when she turned her back on him. He closed his eyes and exhaled out loud. At least she was alive. That was what mattered. John stood up and walked out of the room. He got just outside the door and turned to look at his beautiful daughter as his eyes shined with tears. He hoped that she wouldn't beat herself up too badly over this.

"I love you, Elle," John whispered. "Always have. Always will."

He slowly walked down the hallway, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do. This was how it had to be. They would be fine—they had each other. That was his only small comfort in this situation. John rounded the corner into his room before he took the Colt out of his pocket and set it on the small bedside table. He roughly wiped away a few tears as he took a picture out of his wallet. A picture of his little girl. The little girl who had given him hope so long ago. The little girl who had changed his life. The little girl he loved more than life itself.

"Okay," was all John said.

Moments later, Sam walked by carrying a cup of coffee. He looked into the room to see John lying on the floor. He shouted for his father before he dropped the cup of coffee, causing it to splatter all over the ground as he ran to his father's side screaming for help. The doctors and nurses ran down the hallway as Elle and Dean stuck their heads out their doors. They looked to each other before they both ran down the hallway toward their father's room. Elle managed to slip in the coffee puddle on the floor, causing her to land flat on her back. She rolled over to see people attempting to resuscitate her father. Everything seemed as if it were moving in slow-motion. She crawled through the puddle and over to where Dean knelt begging for them to fix their dad. Elle was in shock—she wasn't sure how she was supposed to be feeling. Her emotions were so conflicted right now. The man was her father, after all and despite the last words she had spoken to him—she hadn't actually meant them.

"I'll call it. Time of death: 10:41 a.m."

Elle leaned against her brother, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. She stared straight ahead with a blank expression, blinking rather slowly as a heavy load of guilt began to take a deep-rooted residency within her.


	25. Everybody Loves a Clown

Elle stood in front of the mirror in her hospital room focusing on her teary blue eyes which were red and puffy from crying. She felt like that was all she did was cry…or at least when no one was looking. She couldn't cry in front of Sam and Dean. She didn't have the right to cry in front of them. Especially after what she did. Especially after the last words she had spoken to him. John Winchester, her father, dead. She couldn't fully wrap her head around the thought. He was gone. Forever. Gone forever thinking that she hated him. Despite the hell that man had put her through for the past 22 years, she could never actually hate him and she hated herself for those being the last words she said to him. She had finally gotten the words she had been yearning from him for years and she had completely brushed him off. By this point, she was hyperventilating and had to rest her hands against the sink so that she could lean against it and not collapse to the ground. It hurt. Everything hurt. Her body hurt. Her head hurt. She just wanted to make it stop. She just wanted her father back. There was a knock at the door. Bleary-eyed, Elle turned to find Tommy rushing over to her.

"Hey, you all right?" Tommy asked gently.

"Fine. I'm fine," Elle said through gritted teeth.

"You don't look fine."

"Thanks for reminding me that I look like shit."

Elle looked down at her arms and legs which were covered with open wounds. She thought of the wounds under her hospital gown and refused to look at the one that marred her face. Tommy reached out to touch her but she quickly recoiled and moved further into the bathroom, tripping over the toilet—catching herself with her hand landing in the toilet bowl water. He quickly moved over to her and helped her to her feet and walked her to the sink to wash her hands. When she was done, Elle just stood there looking into the mirror once more as Tommy rested his arms against the sink, almost trapping her.

"That's not what I meant," Tommy whispered. "And you know it."

"I don't know anything anymore," Elle muttered.

"Elle."

"Don't."

"You were there for me. Let me be there for you."

"I don't want or need your help."

"I've been there—I know better than to believe you."

"I'm doing just fine on my own."

"Then why are you still in your hospital gown?"

"It's comfortable."

"The breeze in the back your favorite part?"

"Tommy, just—"

"Let me help you."

"Fine—but only because I don't want you to get Sam or Dean."

"Who will probably be here any minute. So we should probably get this over with."

With a shrug of her shoulder, Tommy wrapped his arm around Elle, but she quickly pushed his arm off her and walked back into the main part of her hospital room. Tommy tried to help her onto her bed, but again, she brushed him aside. He sighed before he walked over to the desk in the room where her duffel bag sat. He grabbed the bag and brought it over to Elle. He asked her what she wanted to wear, but she responded by dumping the over-stuffed bag causing t-shirts and underwear to fall to the floor. Elle reached for an old baggy t-shirt, sweatpants, and over-sized sweatshirt. Tommy found Elle's choices kind of odd—especially given how hot it was outside, especially with the humidity and it being summer and all. Elle tried to untie her hospital gown, but she couldn't reach it. Tommy quickly moved to her aid and untied it for her while trying to calm her at the same time. He knew Elle to be stubborn, but this seemed different. Like she was beginning to pull away. Elle managed to get her own shirt and sweatshirt on, but she dropped her sweatpants on the floor when she moved to get them on. She was about to jump down to grab them when Tommy stopped her and grabbed them. He started to slip the pants up her legs when a knock came at the door.

"What in the hell is going on in here?" Dean questioned as he walked into the room.

"I—uh—Elle needed help," Tommy said backing away.

"Taking her clothes off?"

"Putting them on—I swear to God. I would never disrespect your sister."

"I still don't get why you're here."

"I—uh—I called him," Sam said entering the conversation.

"Why?"

Both Tommy and Sam looked to Elle, but she wasn't paying attention to the conversation. Instead, she seemed to get lost in her thoughts as she stared outside at the rain. She had pulled the hood on her sweatshirt pulled up over her head—as if she were trying to cover herself. The only parts of her visible were her face and hands. Truth was, she was covering herself. As if she didn't have enough insecurities as it was—they were just intensified with the scars left behind on her body. Everything else that was wrong with her when she arrived in the emergency room had miraculously disappeared, but not those scars. She almost wished it were the other way around, that the scars were gone, but she retained all her other medical issues.

"Any time now," Dean said.

"Elle and I met up with Tommy in Colorado and he asked us to keep him up to speed with the whole demon thing," Sam rushed.

"That about sums it up," Tommy said with a nod of his head.

"Well, we gotta go," Dean responded gruffly. "Elle, get your shoes on."

Elle seemed to get a deer in the headlight expression on her face. In the corner of the room were the clothes she had been brought into the hospital wearing and they were all covered in blood. Her blue Converse sneakers were covered in blood and the E.R. doctors hadn't been careful when removing them. The shoes were ruined. Elle slowly began digging through the mess of clothes on her bed before she pulled out her flip flops. She pulled them on over the socks she was wearing, making for an awkward fashion statement before simply turning to stare back outside. The three guys in the room looked to each other in concern knowing that Elle wasn't acting like herself.

Sam mouthed asking what they should do. Dean responded that he didn't know and Tommy just shrugged his shoulders. None of them were sure how to proceed. Dean gently hit Sam in the arm before suggesting a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors—which the oldest Winchester lost. He demanded a rematch because he was distracted, but he still lost. Dean sighed before he walked over to Elle's bed. He cleared his throat three times before he got his sister's attention. Her bright blue eyes seemed to be swimming in unshed tears and Dean had to look away. To be honest, he was still kinda pissed at his sister. He knew he really shouldn't be after everything she had been through—but part of him couldn't help but wonder if their dad would still be alive if Elle hadn't gone off on her own. Sam coughed his name which made him look at Elle again, but she was just aimlessly playing with the drawstrings on her sweatshirt. Dean noticed the mess she had made of her clothes and he started to pick them up for her. Tommy quickly rushed to his side, helping him pick up the clothes. He picked up a pair of Elle's underwear which Dean quickly snatched from Tommy and stuffed in Elle's bag. Dean then did a quick search for all the undergarments before the other guy got a hold on any more.

The middle Winchester sibling had walked over to his little sister and sat on the bed beside her. He tried to hug his little sister, but she only pushed him away to continue playing with her drawstrings. Sam told her that they would stop to get her new shoes, but she still didn't say anything. He knew that she was hurting—hell, they were all hurting. Dean wasn't really showing it and Elle was trying to isolate herself and he was just trying to keep it together in case either of them broke. Weren't families supposed to come together in tragedies? Because it seemed like this family was going to fall apart. Dean said that it was time for them to go—that they had to get to over to Bobby's place who already had a few hours on them, having posed as a funeral director to transport the body. The body. Their father's body. They were going to give him a proper send-off tonight…if they ever managed to get out of this hospital. There was a knock on the door. The Winchesters and Tommy turned to find Marcus, the paramedic, standing in the doorway.

"What do you want?" Sam scoffed.

"I'm here to talk to Elle," Marcus responded.

"Anything you have to say to her, you can say in front of us."

"Actually, by law you need to leave the room for what I'm about to discuss with her."

"Unless, Elle says she wants us present."

"Stand down, Mr. Pre-law," Dean said patting Sam's shoulder. "We can go get the car pulled around for Elle-Belle."

"That job doesn't require more than one person."

"Sam, it's fine. I'll be fine," Elle sighed. "Tommy you go with them too."

"Elle…"

"I said I'm fine!"

Elle felt bad for snapping at her brother and she muttered her apologies as Tommy, Dean, and Sam left her room. Sam looked over his shoulder at her before he left. Marcus seemed to be waiting patiently for them to go. After several moments of silence, Elle looked up at Marcus and gave him a look asking him what he wanted. He cleared his throat before taking a step closer to her.

"How are you doing, Elle?" Marcus asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," Elle said as she squished her socked toes in her flip flops. "Especially not with someone I've never met before."

"My name is Marcus. I'm the guy who found you after the accident."

"What are you here for—a thank you?"

"Do you feel safe at home?"

Elle was completely thrown for a loop. She didn't understand why he would be asking her this.

"You came in pretty battered…more than just a car accident."

"So?"

"You don't have to go home with them, you know. There are programs for people in situations like yours…"

"Hold-up, what are you implying here?"

"It was obvious that you were abused before…"

"My brothers would never hurt me like that. In my line of work—my family's line of work—things can be pretty physically demanding."  
"And what is the McGuilicutty family business?"

"We hunt spirits, demons, shtrigas, wendigos, creepy-ass scarecrows, and the like. Then we kick their asses. You know, the saving the world business." Elle's tone was filled with sarcasm so Marcus wouldn't believe her. "I don't mean to be rude, but my dad just died and my brothers and I have funeral arrangements to look after."

"Of course. But let me give this to you—just in case."

Marcus handed her a piece of paper with a phone number on it. He told her that she could call him at any time—if she didn't feel safe, if she just needed to talk, or for whatever. Elle sighed and nodded her head as she shoved the paper in the pocket of her sweatshirt. She wasn't actually going to ever use it, but she pretended that she would—so that she could get rid of him. Elle walked past Marcus with her gaze on the ground and her hood strings pulled tight, flip flops clicking with every step she took. She hated the attention that she was drawing to herself. If she could just curl up in a ball—she would. Instead, she made her way outside where the boys were waiting for her in the Impala.

Elle slid into the backseat beside Tommy who tried to give her a reassuring smile, but she ignored him and curled into a ball, isolating herself from him. She leaned her head against the window and she could feel the tears beginning to well in her eyes. They were leaving the last place she had spoken to her father. The place where her father had tried to tell her that he loved her—but she wouldn't let him. It was all her fault. It was probably her fault he was dead. The conclusion wasn't hard to jump to. She was a medical miracle—having no sign of any prior injuries aside from the scars covering her body. That and the fact that the Colt was missing—it made sense. If she had only known…Elle gasped out loud, her thoughts of her father overwhelming her. Dean slammed on the breaks and all three boys looked to her. Elle just pulled her sweatshirt hood over her face and refused to meet their glances as she muttered that she was fine and it was menstrual issues—which scared all three of them away.

After a car ride that seemed to last an eternity, the Winchesters and Tommy finally made it to Bobby's house. Dean made a comment about why Tommy was still with them—but no one responded. The boys got out of the car and met Bobby, but Elle stayed in the Impala. She sat with her feet pulled up to the seat and her arms wrapped around her legs just staring blankly ahead. Bobby shook each of the boys' hands, including Tommy's before he looked at Elle in the car. He asked the boys how she was doing—but no one could really give a solid answer because to be honest, they didn't know how Elle was doing. She didn't really talk to them unless she had to—but she always avoided the subject of John.

Elle sat in the Impala, alone, until night fell. Sam and Tommy came out to bring her supper, but she refused the food—she wasn't really hungry. Her stomach was still churning with guilt. She had cried most of the afternoon in the car, but she tried to hold it together for the boys—although, it was obvious that she wasn't all right. After ignoring them long enough, her brother and Tommy left her alone once more—but it wasn't long lived when Bobby came over and knocked on her window. She looked over to him as he motioned for her to roll down the window. Slowly, she obliged and rolled it down. He leaned against the window and examined the pale and tired expression on her face, her red eyes and nose, and tear-stained cheeks.

"Ellie, it's time," Bobby said gruffly.

"For what?" Elle said hoarsely.

"I think you know what, Ellie. It's time to say goodbye. Sam and Dean are waitin' on ya."

"Just tell them to go without me."

"I know you and your daddy had your differences, but…"

"I don't want to go."

"I know you're hurtin' but so are your brothers. They need you there."

That felt like a punch in the gut. Her brothers needed her. What kind of person was she that she needed to be guilt-tripped into attending her own father's funeral? A horrible person probably and this very fact made her feel worse. Elle rubbed at her face harshly with the sleeves of her sweatshirt while Bobby reached out to touch her shoulder. She immediately flinched at his touch. She couldn't stand anyone touching her anymore. She hated the feeling of not being in control of who could touch her and who couldn't, but being tortured by a demon would do that to a person. Bobby muttered an apology before he opened the car door and held out a hand for Elle to grab. She moved the hood of her sweatshirt from her face to get a better look at his outstretched hand. She knew she was being stupid—debating whether or not to accept his hand. This was Bobby. The man who was like a father to her. The thought of the word father panged at her heart and made her eyes begin to water once more. She hated looking weak and pathetic. Over Bobby's shoulder she could see Sam and Dean standing on the porch—waiting. Waiting for her. She didn't want to hurt them—the way she had hurt her father. Elle sighed. She would go—but for Sam and Dean—not for herself. She didn't deserve to find any peace after what she had told her father and how she had treated him.

Without accepting Bobby's hand, Elle slipped past him and slowly walked toward her brothers in her socks because she had lost her flip flops in the car. Once again, she seemed to hide herself in her sweatshirt—ashamed of the marks on her body. Sam walked toward her and stopped, opening his arms to hug her. She didn't want to—but she knew that he needed it and despite whatever she wanted, her brothers came first. She couldn't risk hurting him, like she had her father, and having him die on her. She walked toward him and let him wrap his arms around her, but she just stood there still—waiting for it to be over. When Sam finally released her, she looked over to Dean to see if he needed the same thing—but he refused to make eye contact with her. Elle just nodded her head as Bobby led them through his salvage yard to the place he had set-up for John's funeral. Tommy had stayed behind in Bobby's house, trying to give the family time to grieve on their own and having not known John Winchester except for Elle's description of a man with eternal constipation.

When they finally came to a stop at the funeral pyre, Elle felt rather dizzy and short of breath at the sight of her dead father's wrapped body. This made things seem more real. She found herself gasping for breath when Sam wrapped his arm around her. Her first thought was the brush him off—but when she did so, she saw the hurt in his eyes. So she leaned against her brother and reached for the chain around her neck with the key attached. She had no idea why her father had given it to her, but he had. It was one of the only things she could hold onto of him. Bobby lit the pyre and then told the Winchester kids that he was going to give them time to pay their respects in private before he stomped back toward the house. The flames slowly began to flicker before the fire was roaring in front of them. The smoke stung at her already watery eyes, causing tears to cascade down her cheeks. She sniffled which caused Sam to rub Elle's arm, which made her cringe slightly, but she allowed it. She looked over at Dean who almost seemed to be giving her a disgusted look for a moment before he looked straight ahead at their father.

Elle's gaze was forced upward as the smoke rose to the starry night's sky. She felt a pit of anger in her stomach as she looked upward. Why didn't they do anything to stop this? Why had they let this happen? She was brought back to the scene in front of her when Sam began struggling to ask them a question. It took him several tries before he spit out that he wanted to know if Dad told either of them anything before—before he died. Elle dropped the key on the chain she had been holding and mumbled that it had been normal stuff, while Dean said that Dad told him nothing. With a look at him—she knew that he was lying—but she didn't call him on it. She didn't have the energy to do so. Elle then thought of the last words her father had spoken. He had told her that he loved her. Her eyes looked forward to his burning body. She couldn't do this. She thought that she could be there for her brothers—but she couldn't be there. Not after everything. Elle removed Sam's arm and quickly turned on her heel to walk away wiping at the tears that wouldn't stop flowing.

"Elle, where are you going?" Sam called.

"I can't—I just can't do this," Elle cried. "I tried, but I can't."

"Elle…"

"You stay here," Dean commanded. "Dad deserves that much from you."

"I can't, Dean," Elle whined. "I can't."

"Don't you walk away from this. Not now."

Elle's tearful gaze met Dean's hardened one.

"I can't be here," Elle muttered before she turned her back on her brothers and took a few steps before saying lowly, "I don't deserve to be here."

Leaving her brother's and her father behind, Elle maneuvered her way back to Bobby's house. Her tear ducts couldn't produce any more tears by the time she got back to the house. Bobby was sitting outside with Tommy when she walked up the porch stairs. She stopped and turned toward them. They both looked at her with puzzled expressions on her face when she finally spoke.

"Walmart. I need to go to Walmart."

One Week Later…

Bobby sat at his kitchen table massaging his temples. He felt like the Singer Salvage Yard had turned into the Singer Bed, Breakfast, and every freaking meal. Normally, he lived alone but for the past week he had been playing host to three Winchester kids and their friend Tommy Collins. So far, the most tolerable one had been the one he didn't really know: Tommy. Dean had thrown himself into working on fixing up the totaled Impala. He was rarely around except for meals—and even then he was usually rather irritated. Sam was busy looking over the shoulders of both his siblings—hovering over them both. Elle had locked herself up in the spare bedroom and didn't come out except to go to the bathroom or sneak food upstairs. She was also the one that worried him the most—not talking to anyone really. Tommy sat in the room with her a good amount of the time, but she just stayed in there watching Disney movies on the DVD player she had demanded to get from Walmart that night.

The front door of the house swung open revealing Sam Winchester walking through the door. He clutched a phone in his hands with a bag of groceries on his arm. Sam had been trying to figure out his daddy's voicemail passcode since he found the phone. Angrily, he slammed the phone down on the table before shoving the bag in the freezer and taking a seat at a chair across from Bobby.

"I've tried everything," Sam grumbled. "Nothing works: his birthday, Mom's birthday, Dean's birthday, Elle's birthday, my birthday…I've gotten nowhere."

"You know your daddy was big into that code stuff," Bobby responded. "Coordinates…"

"Bobby, that's gotta be it. Map. You got a map?"

Bobby walked over to a messy desk and grabbed an atlas before tossing it at Sam. Sam paged through it until he came to Kansas. He plugged in the closest numbers to Lawrence's coordinates, but that didn't work. Bobby watched as Sam continued to thumb through the atlas for coordinates to anything memorable. After several failed attempts, Sam finally flipped to the page with a map of Wisconsin. He looked to Bobby who shrugged his shoulders. Sam's finger moved to the northern part of the state to find the four numbers closest to the coordinates for Rhinelander, Wisconsin. He dialed them into the phone. There was a moment of silence before a voice spoke into the phone telling him that he had 11 new voicemails and 19 saved voicemails. Sam's eyes widened. It worked. He mouthed that it worked to Bobby before he quickly went back outside to the porch to listen to the messages.

Just then, Tommy came down the stairs. He nodded his head at Bobby as he entered the kitchen. Bobby motioned for Tommy to take a seat, but instead, the young man went to the refrigerator. Tommy muttered something about not knowing when Elle had eaten, so he was going to make her a sandwich. Bobby told the young man to sit—that Elle's stomach could manage for a few minutes while he took a breather. Tommy sighed before he sat down across from Bobby. The young guy yawned—looking after a stubborn Ellie wasn't exactly a cakewalk, but it looked the kid was managing so far.

"How is she?" Bobby asked.

"We're back to Mulan," Tommy responded. "I never knew it was possible to over-do the whole Disney thing, but she takes it to a whole other level."

"Everyone grieves differently."

"I know I'm in no place to judge—but this isn't healthy for her."

"I know it."

"So what are we gonna do?"

The timer on the oven went off. Bobby stood up and walked over to the oven and took out a pan of brownies. Just then Tommy noticed the countertop with the empty Betty Crocker Brownie Mix, mixing bowl, egg shell, and vegetable oil container. Bobby quickly set the hot pan on top of the stove before he turned to Tommy.

"Brownies? What are you gonna do with brownies?" Tommy asked.

"Bribe her," Bobby said with a shrug. "They're her favorite and we gotta start somewhere."

Tommy shook his head before Bobby told him to get some shut-eye on the couch while he tried to bribe Elle out of bed. The young man accepted the offer as Bobby moved to the freezer to grab the carton of cookie dough ice cream Sam had just gotten from the store. Bobby could hear Tommy already gently snoring as he scooped the ice cream into a bowl over the warm brownie. If this didn't work—he wasn't sure what would—other than a hard dose of reality, but he was going to try this first.

The older man climbed the stairs and stopped outside the door to the room Elle had been occupying. He could hear her moving about inside the room. After a quick rap on the door, Bobby opened it to reveal Elle standing in front of the TV and DVD player. She looked over to Bobby with a tired expression and still dressed in the clothes she had come in. Bobby tried not to take a whiff of the odor she was giving off—knowing that she also hadn't showered in a week. How Tommy could put up with all of this was beyond him. Elle didn't say anything. Instead she just put a new DVD into the player before hopping back onto the bed and falling backward onto her pillows. Bobby took a few more steps inside, looking over at the stack of DVD's Elle had accumulated over the week: Mulan, Beauty and the Beast, Lilo and Stitch, Pocahontas, Emperor's New Groove, The Little Mermaid, Robin Hood, Cinderella, Aladdin, Lion King, A Goofy Movie, Toy Story, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Finding Nemo…and a few more that had fallen behind the DVD player. Bobby shook his head. She definitely had gone a little overboard in reverting back to her Disney phase.

"So, what's playing at Ellie Cinema?" Bobby asked.

"Lilo and Stitch," Elle muttered.

"You want cookie dough ice cream and brownies to go with it?"

"Yeah."

Elle sat up and motioned for Bobby to hand her the bowl.

"But there's a catch," Bobby stated.

"Of course there is," Elle groaned as she plopped back onto the pillows.

"You might wanna hear me out otherwise I'll eat this in front of you."

"Fine."

"Number one—a shower is in order. You're ripe and that poor boy is going to need nose plugs soon. Number two—you gotta spend some time with those brothers of yours. They don't know how to function without ya."

"Is that it?"

"For now."

"Fine, hand me the bowl. I haven't eaten since someone seems to be guarding the fridge at all times."

Bobby smirked at her before he handed her the bowl and walked across the room to crack a window to air the room out. He then moved to the dresser and grabbed the DVD player off it. Elle asked him what he thought he was doing—and Bobby told her that since she was using his electricity, he got to dictate when she used the DVD player and right now, she wasn't going to get it back until she spent some time with her brothers. Elle grumbled something Bobby couldn't understand as the old man walked out of the room with her DVD player. Elle set the half-eaten bowl of ice cream and brownie on the bedside table before she curled herself up into a ball. If she hadn't been so hungry—she never would have made that deal. She didn't really want to see her brothers. While isolating herself, she had reasoned that she really couldn't say anything she'd regret to them if she didn't see them. She had seen Dean asleep on the couch twice in the past week and she had run into Sam after every time she used the bathroom, because he was obviously trying to get her attention. Instead, she would quickly dodge him and run back to her sanctuary. She knew that they wouldn't understand, but it was for the best—so that she didn't say anything stupid to them and live to regret it.

Elle looked over at the stack of DVD's. They only way she was getting that player back was if she met Bobby's demands. First up, the shower. Elle poked her head out into the hallway to make sure that the coast was clear before she sprinted to the bathroom and locked the door behind her. She leaned against the bathroom door and she could feel her heart weighing her down. Wasn't it supposed to get easier? It had been a week since…it should feel better by now? There should be a sense of some relief? But no. Any time her thoughts turned to her father there was a gnawing sense of guilt that overwhelmed her that it practically paralyzed her. She slid down the door to the floor—who knew that taking a simple shower could be so hard and energy consuming? It only made her wonder how hard it was going to be to spend time with her brothers—especially Dean, who hadn't even attempted to seek her out. Slowly, she crawled on her hands and knees over to the bathtub and turned it on. She watched as the water flowed from the faucet—almost mesmerized by it. How she wished it could all be over. All the pain—all the hurt—all the guilt. Her eyes flickered over to the plug for the bathtub for a moment before she pulled the metal piece to make the water flow from the shower nozzle.

The Winchester girl stayed in the shower until the water went cold. At some points she wasn't sure what was water and were her tears. They flowed mingled down her face. She hadn't even used soap when the water went cold on her. So she quickly shampooed her hair washed her body under the freezing water. By the time she got out of the shower, her body was pruned and shivering, her eyes were red from crying, and she was exhausted from exerting herself the most she had in days. She wrapped herself in a towel and tip-toed back to her room, dripping water on the floor from her hair. She closed the bedroom door behind her and sat on the bed covered in her towel. She leaned back on the bed, closing her eyes. Daily tasks shouldn't be so difficult. After almost ten minutes of just lying there, Elle finally got up and moved to her duffel bag. She found a pair of jeans and a baggy sweatshirt she had stolen from Sam a couple months ago. Again, she was trying to hide the scars that now covered her body. She left her hair unbrushed and hanging down, still dripping before she slowly emerged from her room. She had half-expected to find Sam waiting for her, but he wasn't.

Slowly, she walked over to the stairs. She stood at the top of them for about five minutes before she heard the sound of the door opening and closing and Sam and Dean talking downstairs. There was a mention of her name, which made her freeze for a second. She didn't want to do this—but she wanted that freaking DVD player too much. So, she walked down the stairs. Sam smiled at her when he noticed her and Dean glanced over at her momentarily before he looked a different direction. Sam met her at the bottom of the stairs with open arms which she walked into—but hoped it would be over soon. He told her that it was good to see her to which she just nodded.

"Just tell her already," Dean grumbled.

"Tell me what?" Elle asked.

"We've finally got somewhat of a lead. It's a few hours drive from here," Sam said.

"Well, good luck with that. I love you both and I'll see you if you get back."

Sam looked at her curiously.

"You're going with 'em, Ellie. The fresh air will do you good," Bobby said from the table.

"But I can't," Elle mumbled. "I just—can't."

"We're gonna go talk to someone who knew Dad, not duke it out with the Demon," Dean commented.

Elle bit her bottom lip before she looked over to Tommy sleeping soundly on Bobby's couch. Bobby must've read her mind because he responded.

"He'll be here when you get back," Bobby said. "I've got some work he can do for me. He made mention of wanting to earn his stay."

"But I—"

"And if you want desk decoration back—you'll go with 'em."

The DVD player sat on Bobby's desk. Before Elle could even say anything else, Sam said that it was settled and asked if Bobby had any cars they could borrow. The grumpy old man said that he should have something lying around that worked. He reached for a pair of keys and told the Winchesters to follow him. Elle looked down at her socked-feet and sighed before she pulled her wet hair behind her ears. Dean quickly followed behind Bobby, but Sam looked at Elle and put up a finger to give him a second. He went and dug through his stuff in the corner of the living room before he walked back toward her with a box. With a goofy grin on his face, he handed her the box and told her to open it. She really wasn't in the mood for gifts, but to appease her brother she pulled the lid off the box to reveal a blue pair of Converse sneakers with a Superman emblem embroidered on each shoe.

"I kinda had to guess at your size," Sam said. "But if they don't fit we can get you something else. I just thought they looked kinda cool and you're like Superwoman in my book."

Elle didn't say anything as she felt the tears stinging at her eyes. Instead, she dropped the box to the floor and hugged her brother tightly. He made a terrible joke about the shoes being that bad as he hugged her back. She certainly didn't feel super but the fact that Sam knew—he just knew—that meant the world to her. She quickly broke the hug and Sam told her to put the shoes on and meet them outside. As Sam walked outside, Elle laced up her new sneakers on the floor. Bobby walked inside and stopped right in front of Elle. He told her to be good and to try and enjoy herself—her DVD player would be waiting for her when she got back. She didn't say anything, she just nodded her head as concentrated on tying her shoes. When Elle stood up, Bobby reached under her chin and lifted it a bit. He told her to keep her chin up and that everything was going to be okay—different, but okay. Elle just nodded her head again before she walked over to Tommy sleeping on the couch. She didn't want to wake him to say goodbye, so instead, she pressed a kiss against his cheek and walked out the door.

Sam and Dean were beside an old beat-up soccer mom van with wood paneling. Dean shook his head and said that he never thought he'd be caught dead in one of these. Normally, Elle would make some sort of witty retort, but she didn't have it in her. Instead, she just walked past her brothers and tried to open the sliding door to the back—but it was stuck. Dean gently pushed her aside and tried to open it himself, but it still wouldn't budge. So, Elle opened the driver's door and crawled through the front seat to the back of the van. Sam and Dean took this as their cue to leave, so they both hopped into the van and were on their way—only Elle still didn't have a clue where they were going. While they were on the road, Dean grumbled about how he was getting passed by old geezers because the van wouldn't go any faster without falling apart. Sam laughed at this, but Elle just stared outside at the flat land they were passing.

Eventually, they pulled up to the Harvelle Roadhouse Saloon. Elle wondered for a moment if Dean was truly that desperate for a good drink, but it didn't really make sense for them to drive hours for one. They got out of the car and Sam made a mention that they were looking for someone named Ellen. Elle asked who Ellen was, but neither of her brothers could answer her. Sam tossed something to Dean who easily caught it before they headed for the door. Elle followed with her arms folded across her chest. She was roasting to death in this sweatshirt, but she wasn't going to move to take it off—otherwise she'd reveal the marks she wanted to forget.

The Winchesters walked inside the saloon to find the place practically empty. The only noise in the place was a fly buzzing about and the sound of a lightbulb flickering. Elle stayed between Sam and Dean as they walked further inside. Elle spotted a drunk guy passed out on the bar. Sam made a comment about that not being Ellen—but maybe the guy could tell them where they could find Ellen. So, Elle departed her brother's side, glad for a chance to be rid of them for a moment, as she headed toward the guy while Sam walked into the backroom and Dean walked toward the other side of the bar. When Elle got to the guy, the first thing she noticed was the mullet he was rocking before she poked at his cheek. She didn't get a reaction out of him. She poked him again and again, he didn't do anything.

With a sigh she turned around to yell to Dean when she felt her arms lock behind her back. Elle screamed bloody murder at someone's unwanted touch. Her thoughts immediately returned to being taken against her will with the Demon. She felt so helpless that she didn't even put up much of a fight. Instead, the tears streamed down her cheeks as she was willing to accept her fate. She wondered why her brothers weren't coming to her rescue, but both of them were being held at gunpoint in front of her by two women. She was going to die. Her father made the freaking deal for nothing—but she refused to be tortured like last time. She wanted her fate served with a swift blow.

"Just get it over with," Elle cried. "Kill me already."

"Whoa there, little lady, I ain't gonna hurt ya," the man said. "Just have some questions for ya."

"Do it, please."

"Just walk with me."

The man with the mullet walked her toward her brothers and the armed women. Sam called her name when he caught sight of the tears running down her face. The woman holding Sam at gunpoint looked over at her curiously before she looked to Sam and Dean. She looked to be pondering something for a second before she spoke.

"Elle? Sam? Dean? Winchester?" the woman said.

The Winchester looked to each other in confusion before they acknowledged who they were. The woman chuckled and lowered her gun and patted Sam on the shoulder.

"Mom, you know these guys?" the blonde girl asked.

"Yeah, I think these are John Winchester's kids," the woman laughed. "I'm Ellen, by the way, and this is my daughter Jo."

Jo slowly lowered her rifle before she said hello to them. Dean gave her a smile—a smile of respect, before he asked the girl if she was going to hit him again. Jo shrugged her shoulder and told him that she wasn't going to make any promises while Ellen put some ice in a towel and handed it to Dean. Dean put the towel on his face and told Jo that she packed a good punch to which Jo retorted that she already knew that, causing Dean to grin. Ellen then looked over at Elle, who was still being held against her will.

"Ash, you can let the poor girl go," Ellen laughed. "Besides, from what John's said about her, she could probably easily kick your ass."

The man named Ash released Elle before he apologized and awkwardly patted the top of her head. Elle cringed at his touch before he walked away and passed out again on the bar. Ellen looked at Elle in concern but before she could say anything, Dean began his game of twenty-questions with her.

"So, you called our dad saying you could help? Help with what?" Dean asked.

"Well, the demon, of course. Heard he was closing in on it."

"What, was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed? I mean, who—who are you? How do you know about all this?"

"Hey, I just run a saloon, honey. But hunters have been known to pass through now and again. Including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once. I feel that I know you kids almost as well as I know my own daughter."

"Oh yeah? Then why is it he's never mentioned you before? Ellen, if that even is your name."

"You'd have to ask him that."

"So why exactly do we need your help?"

"Hey, don't do me any favors. Look, if you don't want my help, fine. Don't let the door smack your ass on the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if…" Ellen looked to each of the Winchesters before finishing. "He didn't send you…he's alright, isn't he?"

"Unless dead is alright," Elle blurted out.

Elle immediately regretted her decision. She began to sniffle and pressed her hands against her eyes, trying to block the tears from falling. She felt like all she did was cry. John Winchester would be embarrassed to see her right now. Footsteps sounded like they were coming closer toward her before a soft, gentle hand touched her. Elle didn't feel scared by Ellen's touch. Something about her felt trustworthy. Ellen removed Elle's hands from her eyes and looked at her sympathetically.

"Honey, I'm so sorry," Ellen said before turning to Sam and Dean. "What happened to him?"

"The demon got to him before he got to it, I guess," Sam said with a shrug.

"Got to you too, I'm guessing," Ellen said as she gently rubbed Elle's hand. "You don't have to put on a brave face for me, Elle. I know the complicated nature of your relationship with your dad. I can't say I agreed with his methods, but that's neither here nor there. But I'm here for anything you need—all you guys."

"It's okay, we're all right—all of us," Dean interrupted.

"Really? I know how close you and your dad were too."

"Really lady, I'm fine—we're all…"

"So look, if you can help us tracking down the Demon, we could use all the help we can get," Sam interrupted Dean.

"Sam," Dean growled.

"You said yourself that the trail's gone cold. We don't have Dad to help us with it—we need someone. So, Ellen, please…"

"Look, Jo and I can't be of much help—but Ash will," Ellen responded.

Ellen yelled for Ash who looked disgruntled being awoken again. Dean scoffed about how a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie could possibly be of use to them, but Jo retorted that Ash was a genius. Dean rolled his eyes as he slammed a folder down on the bar as Ash sat down beside him. Jo nudged Dean and told him to give Ash a chance. Elle just sat there watching it all—unsure of what she was supposed to be doing. Suddenly her stomach rumbled causing Ellen to shoot her a quick glance with a smile.

"Why don't you come back to the kitchen with me while your brothers talk business," Ellen suggested. "Jo will keep 'em in line for you."

"You got that right," Jo commented.

Elle looked to Sam who nodded his head that it was all right before she walked behind the counter and followed Ellen into the back kitchen. Ellen pointed Elle to a stool which Elle sat on before pushing the sleeves up on the baggy sweatshirt because she was sweating. She quickly pulled the sleeves back down when she saw Ellen looking at the marks on her arms. But what surprised Elle was that Ellen didn't ask about the marks. Instead, she just asked what she could fix Elle to eat. Not having had an actual meal in a while Elle asked for chicken tenders and fries. Ellen shook her head and laughed—of all the things she could have ordered, she goes for chicken tenders and fries. Elle just shrugged her shoulders as she could feel the tears beginning to bubble in her eyes.

"Honey, I know what it's like to lose someone, but you can't let it consume you," Ellen said.

"I don't think you get it," Elle said suddenly, surprising herself. "I was so angry with him."

"Join the club."

"I've just been so angry with him for so long. Trying to figure out what to do to get him to love me, all the secrets, ignoring me—I just couldn't take it anymore. So, I let him have it. God, I laid into him so hard. I told him that I hated him and he just took it. He told me that he loved me and I told him that I hated him—and he just took it, accepted it. I don't know why I'm telling you all this—I don't even know you."

"Sometimes it's easier that way."

"You can't tell a soul what I just told you. If Sam and Dean knew…"

"Hey, I'm just here to get you your chicken tenders—not go blabbing your secrets to your brothers. Although, I do think you'd feel a hell of a lot better if you told them."

"But I don't deserve to feel better. I deserve to feel like shit after what I did."

"That's your call, honey."

When Elle's food was finished cooking Ellen put it on a plate before handing it over to Elle. Elle timidly asked if she could stay in the kitchen and eat her food. Ellen caught the underlying hint that she didn't really want to be bothered by her brothers, so she agreed before walking back up front. Elle sat in the back slowly eating her chicken tenders, dipping them in the ranch and ketchup concoction she had made. She slowly savored each bite, knowing that when she was done eating she wouldn't have an excuse to avoid Sam and Dean. She loved them, she did, but she still didn't want to be around them—knowing that she was capable of hurting them.

"Hey!" Jo yelled causing Elle to jump. "Oh god, I so didn't mean to scare you. I—uh-your brothers just wanted me to tell you that you're pulling out in five."

"Where are we going?" Elle questioned.

"Dunno—you'd have to ask the tall one."

"They're both tall."

"Sam? His name is Sam, right? The really tall one."

"Yeah, that's Sam."

There was an awkward pause between the two girls. Elle swirled her fry in her ketchup/ranch mix.

"I can get you a to-go box, if you want," Jo stated.  
"That's all right, I've lost my appetite," Elle sighed.

Elle sighed as she looked down at the half-eaten plate of chicken and fries. She adjusted her sweatshirt to make sure it was covering her marks properly before she jumped off the stool and walked toward the door. Elle was just out the door when Jo called back to her.

"Hey, Elle?" Jo said.

"Yeah?" Elle responded as she turned toward the girl.

"If your brothers give you any crap, just let me know and I'll kick their asses when you guys get back here."

Elle just nodded her head before she followed her brothers outside of the roadhouse and back to the minivan. She crawled through the front and to the backseat before Dean got in and pulled the minivan into gear and hitting the road. It was several hours into the journey before Elle realized that they weren't heading back to Bobby's. She meekly questioned where they were headed, but Dean looked to Sam and Sam said that she would find out soon enough. They were acting quite odd. Why weren't they upfront with her about where they were headed? But Sam quickly interrupted her thoughts with the facts of some case. Elle felt anger burn within her—they were going on a case? She wasn't ready for a case—ever again. She didn't want to do this—but instead of lashing out in anger at her brothers, she pushed the anger deep down inside of her and instead, tears once again slipped from her eyes.

She mentally lashed out at herself for crying again. This sucked. She just wanted to control her damn emotions, but she couldn't. She just wanted to be by herself, but she was stuck with her brothers. She wanted to scream, but it would be of no use. She suddenly felt rather trapped when she saw a sign that read "You are now leaving Minnesota." Having paid attention in geography, Elle knew the options for states they were headed to—but the sun setting behind them made it rather obvious. Elle lunged for the door and pulled on it—but it wouldn't budge.

"Elle?" Sam questioned.

"Out, I want out," Elle screamed. "I need to get out. I can't be here."

"Calm her down," Dean demanded.

"How?" Sam asked.

"You know I hate Wisconsin," Elle whimpered.

"Then pretend it's not Wisconsin," Dean said.

"Dude, not helping—quit being an ass," Sam hissed.

Dean bit his bottom lip as he cocked his head at a different angle and continued watching the road—not saying what he wanted to say. Sam calmly explained the Elle that they were taking a job—to try and get back to normal. That life still went on—even without their father and that they had to try to get back to normal—so that they could kick the Demon in the ass. Elle settled down a little bit—she knew that she was acting childish, but it was as if she couldn't control her actions. It was as if someone else had taken root within her and was controlling her. She didn't like not being in charge of her senses—it made her feel even weaker and more pathetic than she already felt she was.

Sam continued to explain that they were going to Medford, Wisconsin. He then said something about killer clowns—apparently it killed the parents but left the kids, but the kicker was that the family had been at a carnival that night. Dean questioned how Sam knew it was something up their alley and Sam responded that the cops didn't have any viable leads. All the employees were tearing down shop and had solid alibis—not to mention that the little girl claimed that she saw the clown vanish into thin air. The cops chalked this up to trauma, but in this line of work—one knew better than to simply do that.

"Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam—why did it have to be clowns?" Dean chuckled.

"Oh, give me a break," Sam grumbled.

"You didn't think I'd remember, did you? I mean, come on, you still burst out crying whenever you see Ronald McDonald on TV."

"Well, at least I'm not afraid of flying."

"Planes crash!"

"And apparently clowns kill!"

Normally, Elle would have interjected in their conversation by this point, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything. Instead, she gently pushed Sam's hand away from her and sat up to look out the window, while still listening to her brothers. Apparently this same type of thing happened three different times, at three different locations…at least on record. The last time recorded was in 1981 with the Bunker Brothers Circus. Sam and Dean mused what sort of thing could move from location to location—perhaps a spirit attached to a cursed object. Elle sighed at the theory—it was certainly plausible, but she really hoped that it was something not up their alley so that they could leave.

The Winchesters pulled up to a motel. Elle slowly followed behind both her brothers—normally, she was fighting to be the first one in the door, but honestly, she had no motivation to do so. She just kinda stared at her feet as she walked inside toward the extra bed, but Sam told her that she could take one of the bigger beds. She looked to him and gave him a nod before she fell onto the bed and lay very still, concentrating on breathing. Dean said that he was going out to get some food. He asked Elle what she wanted, but she didn't say anything. She didn't see his frustrated expression behind her, but he went out and got tacos. When he got back, Elle hadn't moved, but she wasn't asleep. She just lay there. Dean looked over to Sam who shrugged his shoulders.

"Elle. Tacos," Dean said.

But she didn't say anything and she didn't move. Dean sighed before he sat down at the table with Sam who was doing more research on his laptop. The two boys began to talk in hushed tones about their sister.

"I'm worried about her," Sam whispered.

"Just let her be," Dean whispered back.

"But this isn't our baby sister."

"What do you want me to do, Sam? Hold her by the hand? Force food down her throat?"

"I want you to give a shit."

"I do give a shit—but I'm gonna let her deal with this how she wants to, not how you expect her to."

"I'm not buying it."

"Then don't."

Dean took a bite of a taco, silencing Sam and causing him to shake his head. He reached for his own taco before he brought the case back up and the tension seemed to slightly dissipate. When both boys decided to go to bed, Elle still lay there awake—lost in her thoughts. She thought back to her eighth birthday when they had been on some sort of case in North Carolina—one of the few times John Winchester had shown a little affection toward her. He had showed up at the beach when they were watching the stars shine over the ocean and she had fallen asleep with her head on his lap. He hadn't done anything to move her. Was it the little moments that she had missed because she had been too busy being pissed at him or trying to impress him? Trying to make him love her—when he already did?

Elle managed a few hours of sleep off and on through the night before it was time for them to head to the carnival. She tried to get out of going, but Sam told her that they were trying to get back to normal—and this was something they normally did. She still didn't move, but Sam got down on his haunches and leaned in front of her, face to face. He told her that he was going to keep annoying her until she got up. This made her groan before she quickly sat up. She got a head rush from sitting up so fast, but she eventually made it out to the minivan and then to the carnival grounds.

When they pulled up to the carnival, they found detectives talking to some of the workers. Dean grabbed a fake ID from the box he had gotten from the Impala before he walked outside. Sam stood just outside the van, while Elle simply sat there in the back of the vehicle. She had made it that far—wasn't that good enough? Dean eventually walked back toward Sam. Sam knocked on the back window of the van and motioned for Elle to come outside. She stared at him blankly before he sighed and opened the trunk of the van so that Elle could be part of the conversation—although she didn't contribute anything to it. Dean told his siblings that there were two more murders and apparently another clown had been spotted, but once again it had vanished into thin air.

They were going to have to check everything for EMF to find the cursed object. Sam compared it to finding a needle in a needle stack—but they were going to stick out like a sore thumb. Dean then looked over to a sign that said "Help Wanted" before he smirked. Elle shook her head, but Dean nodded his. She looked to Sam but he also nodded his head, but she refused to go inside with them. So, the boys went inside and Elle snuck outside. She didn't want to be a part of this case. She needed to remove herself from it and somewhere Sam and Dean wouldn't find her. Elle looked around and spotted the Ferris wheel before she looked back at Mr. Cooper's trailer. She pulled her sweatshirt tighter over herself before she walked over to the Ferris wheel. The guy motioned for her ticket, but she shook her head and pulled out her wallet.

"This Mr. Franklin is yours if you don't make me get off," Elle said.

The guy nodded his head and motioned for her to step on. Elle sat down and moments later the Ferris wheel started. She rested her elbows on the lap guard and stared out before her—thinking. She had been doing a lot of that recently. She remembered going to a carnival once and she had run away from Sam and Dean because she didn't want to go on the Tilt-a-Whirl. She had run to the Ferris wheel line and found some older guy who was willing to ride it with her. Of course, that wasn't the problematic part—it was afterward that the guy tried to walk away with her when John intercepted them. He literally decked the guy in the face before yelling at her to run over to Sam and Dean who were a few feet away. She never knew what happened to the guy and her father never brought the incident up again.

Elle sighed before she leaned back again. She was probably on that stupid Ferris wheel for almost an hour when she saw Sam talking to the guy running the ride. Elle groaned when she saw him point up at her. Of course he found her. It's like he was making it his job to look after her. She watched as Sam shook his head and pulled out his wallet to pay the guy. The guy pocketed the money Sam gave him and stopped the ride when Elle was at the bottom, letting Sam sit beside her. The guy pulled the lap guard down and started the ride again. Sam and Elle sat there for a few minutes in silence before Sam started talking.

"We've been looking all over the place for you," Sam said. "Should've known you'd run to the Ferris wheel."

Elle just continued to look straight ahead at the carnival grounds before her.

"Come on, talk to me," Sam sighed.

"I have nothing to say," Elle muttered.

"Dad just died—you've got to be thinking something."

"Not really."

"You and Dean are both terrible liars."

Elle blew her breath out slowly.

"You know you can talk to me," Sam said.

"I know," Elle whispered.

"About anything."

"I know it, but I can't"

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Sam, just drop it, please?"

Sam nodded his head and looked straight ahead before he looked to his sister and smiled.

"I'm pretty sure that's the most you've spoken to me in a week."

Elle rolled her eyes.

"There's my little sister. I knew she was in there somewhere."

She didn't say anything. Instead, Sam asked her to walk through the fun house with an EMF with him. He told her that it was pretty dark in there and that no one would really be looking at her. She knew he was trying. She did. She felt like her emotions were on a yo-yo. One minute she was fine and the next the weight of the world was crashing over her. She didn't like this. She didn't like thinking about how crappy of a person she was—she just wanted to go back to bed and watch Disney movies…or maybe even spend some time away from her brothers. Figure out how to be better person…without them. Figure out how to be a person who wouldn't hurt them.

They got off the Ferris wheel and Elle barfed from motion sickness because she was on the ride way too long. Sam softly chuckled as he held Elle's hair back to keep it out of her face. When she felt a little better and was done puking, she went with Sam into the fun house with an EMF meter. She walked through the place, sticking close to the walls to stay out of people's ways. She came across a fun mirror that distorted her appearance. It made the scar on her face much more vibrant. Her hand moved its way up to her cheek, but she didn't get too lost in her thoughts because Sam reached out and touched her, causing her to scream. He had scared the crap out of her and the people in the fun house started to laugh at her. Sam gently held onto her shoulders and told her to focus her eyes on his. She slowly began to control her breathing before she shrugged Sam's arms from her shoulders. Why couldn't she just go back to normal like Sam or Dean? Why did she have to do this? Be this?

Sam told Elle that she could go back to the van while he looked for Dean. She crawled into the backseat of the van and rested her head on her knees and closed her eyes. She just wanted to be alone for a bit. No Sam or Dean or Bobby or Tommy looking in on her at every moment. No ghosts to gank or demons to exorcize. Just away from it all. By the time Sam and Dean got back to the van they had a trail to follow for this killer clown and they followed this family back home. For a while, they sat outside watching the house until all the lights went out. The boys got out of the car and headed to the house. They assumed that Elle was following behind them, but she didn't follow them. Through the window she saw Sam turn around to look at her, but Dean pushed him toward the door to unlock it. Hunter mode must've kicked in because Sam picked the lock and the boys went inside. Elle buried her nose in her sweatshirt and fell asleep in a rather uncomfortable position.

Elle screamed when Sam shook her awake with a frightened expression on his face. What was he doing here? How long had she been asleep? Sam asked her if she had seen it. Seen what? But she just looked at him with a confused expression on his face as Dean slammed the driver's side door shut and quickly took off down the dark road. He sped down the road, trying to avoid the sound of sirens. Dean asked Elle what she was doing, but Sam responded for her that she must've been tuckered out which caused Dean to slam the wheel.

"You fell asleep?" Dean hissed. "You knew what we were doing in there. I mean not having our backs, that maybe I get. But falling asleep? What if we needed you Elle? We could've died and it would've been your fault."

"Dean!" Sam hissed. "I know you're angry, but don't take it out on Elle."

"She's the one who effed up."

"It doesn't mean you have to rip her a new one."

"It's what Dad would do."

"Dad's not here."

"Yeah I know. He's dead."

"STOP!" Elle shouted. "Just stop. I can't. I just can't."

Elle buried her face in the arms of her sweatshirt. She didn't need Dean to berate her—she could do that well enough on her own. She hadn't thought that Sam and Dean would need her. She thought that they were more than capable without her. She hadn't meant to fall asleep—she was just so tired from the little sleep she had been getting. It seemed like all she was doing was effing up. Sam tried to talk to her, but she kept silent.

Eventually, Dean pulled the van over into a bunch of bushes. They had to ditch the van, in case the family had seen it and the police were looking for them. The Winchesters dug all their belongings out of the minivan and Dean pulled the license plates off. Sam questioned if they really saw it, but Dean didn't want to take any chances with a vehicle he was all too ready to get rid of. They then started walking down the road. Elle stayed a safe distance behind her brothers—she was still able to hear their conversation, but she didn't have to be a part of it.

"I've been thinking…" Dean started. "I don't think we're dealing with a spirit, I mean, that rock salt hit something solid."

"Yeah, a person? Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible?" Sam questioned.

"And dresses up like a clown for kicks? Did Dad's journal say anything?"

"Elle has his journal."

Dean turned back toward Elle who simply shook her head. Sam took the opportunity to pull his phone out of his pocket. Dean questioned whom Sam was calling.

"Maybe Ellen or that Ash guy'll know something," Sam suggested.

"Maybe," Dean said somewhat snidely.

"Hey, you think—uh—you think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?"

"No frickin' way."

"Then why didn't he tell us about her?"

"Dunno—maybe they had some sort of falling out."

"Yeah. You ever notice Dad had a falling with just about everybody? Me, Elle, Bobby…"

Dean just nodded his head.

"Well, don't get all maudlin on me, man."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"This strong silent thing of yours, it's crap."

"I don't see you calling Elle out on it."

"But this isn't anyone we're talking about. I know how you felt about Dad."

Elle's heart sank for a moment. Sam knew how Dean felt about Dad. What did Sam think she felt about their father? Could he read her guilt? Did he know that she actually cared for her father? Was she transparent or did she have a solid façade?

"You know what, Sammy? Back off. Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to…" Dean argued.

"No, no, no, that's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this. But you have to deal with it, man. Listen, you're our brother, man. We, Elle and I, want to make sure you're okay."

"Dude! I'm okay, okay? I swear the next person who asks me if I'm okay their face is going to meet my fist. These are your issues. So quit projecting them onto me!"

"What are you talking about?"

"I just think it's really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad. It's like, oh, what would Dad want me to do? Sam, you spent your entire life slugging it out with the man. Hell, you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him…"

Elle stopped in her tracks and didn't breathe for a moment. If Dean was this pissed at Sam for almost fighting with Dad before he died—how pissed would he be when he learned the last thing she told her father? As if the guilt wasn't plaguing her enough, knowing that Dean would hate her too made things worse. She already hated herself, but the thought of Dean hating her too because of it made it unbearable. She couldn't tell him. She could never tell him about that last conversation. Elle found it hard to breathe, so she sat down on the gravel and curled her legs up to her chest and held her knees with her hands. She wasn't sure how long she sat like that, but she watched Sam push Dean in her direction. Dean slowly walked back over to her, kicking at the gravel as he walked. When he got to his sister she sighed and got down on his haunches in front of her. He cracked his knuckles and cleared his throat.

"So, uh—Sam says I've been kinda an ass to you," Dean mumbled.

Elle just looked up at him with her bright blue eyes.

"He's just been on my back and I took it out on you since you're not in the fighting back mood…so I guess what I'm trying to say is that…I'm uh—sorry."

"No. Don't," Elle said jumping up her feet.

Dean looked at his sister with a puzzled expression as she walked away from him. He thought that she was mad at him—but truth was she was mad at herself and she didn't feel that Dean should be apologizing to her. Besides, he wouldn't be wanting to apologize if he knew. Dean jogged after her and fell into step with her, but she ignored him as she walked toward Sam who said goodbye to Ellen as his siblings returned to his side. Sam explained that Ellen's best guess was a Rakshasa—an ancient Hindu creature that appears in human form and feed on human flesh. They can make themselves invisible but they cannot enter a home without being invited inside first.

"So they dress up like clowns and the children invite 'em inside. Makes sense," Dean mused.

"Yeah," Sam said shaking his head.

"Why don't they just munch on the kids?"

"No idea. Not enough meat on the bones, maybe?"

"So, Elle should be safe."

Sam shook his head and Elle even attempted a smile.

"So, what else'd you find out?" Dean questioned.

"Well, apparently, Rakshasas live in squalor. They sleep on a bed of dead insects," Sam said.

"Ew," Elle commented willingly for the first time causing both Sam and Dean to look at her.

"Two out of three," Dean said shaking his head. "Let's not go for the trifecta."

"Yeah, so these things feed a few times every twenty or thirty years. Slow metabolism or something, I guess," Sam said.

"That makes sense. I mean, the Carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81."

"And there were probably more before that."

As they continued to walk down the road, the boys mused who had worked both shows and came up with Cooper. Sam thought that the picture of the man's father looked just like Cooper. Dean asked how they were supposed to kill the thing and Ellen had told Sam on the phone that they needed a dagger made of pure brass. Dean said he was going to get the knife and Sam was going to check for bugs.

"Which one you looking for?" Dean asked Elle.

Elle shook her head no. She didn't want to do either. She would much rather just sit outside.

"We just don't want to take the chance of the thing finding you without one of us," Sam added.

"So what'll it be?" Dean questioned.

Elle made a stabbing motion with her hand which caused Sam and Dean to laugh—despite the fact that she hadn't really intended to make the situation humorous. Although, she was sure that her brothers both knew that there was no way in hell she was going up against anything bug related. Eventually, they got back to the carnival and the Winchesters split up. Elle went with Dean, only to avoid the creepy crawly critters that could potentially be in Cooper's trailer. Dean explained that the guy they were going to meet was blind and that she should avoid making any jokes about seeing—but Elle wasn't really in the mood to joke. She didn't tell that to Dean though who rapped on the man's door.

A man in sunglasses came to the door. Dean introduced her as his kid sister, Elle. The man sniffed for a moment before nodding his head and allowing them entrance into their trailer. Dean went inside first, but Elle couldn't help but get this feeling in the pit of her stomach that something wasn't right. She didn't know what was wrong—but she could just feel that something wasn't right. Dean asked the man if he had a brass knife. The blind man said he wasn't sure he had a brass knife in his collection, but that they were welcome to look through his trunk. He tapped his trunk with his cane before he walked away. Dean knelt down and opened the trunk. That feeling in Elle's stomach got worse when she saw a red clown wig and a clown costume. Her eyes met Dean's and he mouthed the word "run." Elle began to breathe heavily as she moved toward the door.

"Going somewhere?" the blind man asked.

Elle fumbled to come up with words to say as Dean placed himself between her and the man. Dean tried to make some excuse for his sister, but the blind man called him on his bluff before dropping his cane and pulling off his glasses. Elle felt frozen in place as she watched the man begin to melt in front of her before he disappeared altogether—aside from his eyes which glowed for a moment, like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland—a Disney movie she couldn't stand. Dean yelled for her to run. She tried to say something, but Dean pushed her toward the door. She went crashing into the door—hard. She jiggled the handle, but the door wouldn't budge. A knife flew past her head and punctured the door. She turned around wide-eyed before she started screaming at the door. Out—she needed out—now. She slapped the door and screamed for it to let her out. Dean came from behind her and threw his weight at the door, crushing her in between, but it opened. Elle fell out the door to the ground, Dean landing on top of her, but Sam was right outside to pick her up.

"I heard screaming," Sam said.

"It's the blind guy and he's here somewhere," Dean responded as he picked himself up.

"Well, did you get the—"

"Brass blades? No. It's just been one of those days."

"I got an idea. Come on."

Sam led them toward the funhouse. Elle began breathing harder as they entered the fun house. She stayed behind both of her brothers. They were no more than a few feet inside when a door slammed, separating Sam from his siblings. Elle began to scream his name hysterically as she pounded at the door. She couldn't lose him too. Dean covered Elle's mouth, not wanting her to give away their position as he walked her further through the fun house. They rounded a corner and found Sam. Elle ran over to Sam and hugged him when a knife whirred by and pinned Dean's sleeve to the wall. Elle turned, but she caught sight of her jumbled reflection in the mirror. The strobe lights began to go off and memories from the night began to fill her head. She slowly escaped the reality of the situation and went back to when Yellow-Eyes had her trapped. She closed her eyes and began screaming. There was nothing she could do. She couldn't save him. She was now on the floor, rocking herself back and forth crying. Another knife whirred past Sam's head as he ducked. It missed Dean's face by inches.

"Elle!" Sam shouted.

"Just get the friggin' thing so we can deal with her," Dean shouted.

Sam wrapped his hands with his sleeves before he pulled a pipe from the organ. Elle still sat there, rocking herself as Sam questioned Dean to where the thing was. Dean didn't hear Sam at first from Elle's crying as another knife went flying by and hit inches from Elle. Sam swore as Dean slowly reached up and pulled a lever causing more steam to pour from the pipe organ. Dean saw the vague shape of the invisible attacker behind Sam. He shouted for Sam to get the thing behind him. Sam turned to get the thing, but he tripped over Elle who was curled up. A knife hit the wall right above Elle's head, but she seemed unphased by this—still not with reality. From the floor Sam reached up and stabbed with the pipe unsure if he hit anything—but he did. Blood began to pour from nowhere, so Sam twisted the pipe causing more blood to come. Dean managed to free himself. He walked over to see an empty set of clothes and a bloody pipe. He helped Sammy to his feet, but Elle still sat there rocking herself. Sam and Dean exchanged glances.

"I couldn't do anything. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Elle whimpered.

"Elle, it's ok. The thing is gone," Sam said getting back down at Elle's level, thinking Elle was talking about what just happened, but Elle's thoughts were still focused on that night. The night that changed everything. She just rocked and continued to cry.

"Dude, the thing's gone. Why's she still like this?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. Elle! Elle!"

Dean spotted a cup that someone had left in the funhouse. He reached for it and swirled it—there was still something in it. He took the lid off before he dumped the melted ice water and soda mix onto Elle's face. She spluttered the liquid and looked up at Sam and Dean with her eyes wide. She looked around confused.

"What—what happened?" Elle whispered.

"You tell us," Dean responded.

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

Elle looked up at Dean before she forced herself into a standing position, not verbally responding. But it was then she knew. She knew that she couldn't do this anymore. She knew that she would only be a hindrance until she got a handle on this—if she ever managed to get a handle on things. Elle roughly wiped at her tear-stained cheeks before she walked out of the funhouse and into the night. The stars were sparkling high overhead—but she didn't take the time to look at them. The very things that had once made her feel not so alone had caused her to be alone.

Eventually, the Winchesters made their way back to Harvelle's Roadhouse Saloon—being forced to take a Greyhound there. Elle isolated herself from her brothers on the bus, trying to formulate a plan of action, but failing to come up with a reasonable one. From the bus stop, they walked the two miles to the Roadhouse to find Ellen, Jo, and Ash waiting for them. The boys sat down at the bar to tell Ellen and Jo all about what happened. Elle found an empty table at sat down. She slowly drummed her fingers against the table before she reached for a pen and a napkin and began to doodle. She just drew random designs, but she felt a little better…at least she did until Sam joined her. She looked up at him in confusion, but he nodded over to the bar where Dean was talking with Jo.

"I'm surprised you're not over there," Sam chuckled. "Usually any time Dean or I are within feet of a pretty girl you're right there."

Elle sighed before looking back at the napkin she was working on. Sam was right. Usually she'd be right there, questioning the girl—but she just felt numb. Sam was about to say something else to her when Ash came bursting in from the back room carrying the folder Dean had given him and bizarre looking laptop. Elle stayed put at the table while Sam moved over to the table where Ash had placed the computer. She watched as Dean walked over to them and as Sam motioned for her to come over, but she shook her head. Sam looked somewhat hurt but he returned his attention to Ash. Ellen came and sat in the chair across from her.

"You're awfully quiet," Ellen said.

"You don't really know me," Elle said as she continued to doodle.

"No, but I know you're hurtin'."

"I thought we already established that."

"Honey, the boys told me what happened…if you're not ready, you need to tell them. Giving them the silent treatment ain't doing nobody any favors."

Ellen reached for Elle's hand, causing the young girl's eyes to look to the older woman. Something about the woman gave her hope. She didn't know what it was. Then again, it also made her wish that she had a mother—someone who understood her struggles and her pains. She didn't know why she felt so comfortable around Ellen, she just did. The boys walked over to their table.

"Elle, we should head out," Dean said.

"Hey listen, if you kids need a place to stay I've got a couple of beds out back," Elle said.

"Thanks, but no. There's stuff we gotta finish."

"Okay."

There was an awkward silence for a moment—this was it. This was the out she had been waiting for. A chance to let her brothers get on without her. A chance for her to be somewhat alone. A chance that she didn't have to go on any more hunts.

"Yes," Elle said feebly.

"What?" Sam questioned.

"Yes, I'll stay."

"You're more than welcome here," Ellen said. "But I think ya'll have some talking to do."

Ellen got up and walked toward the kitchen as Sam and Dean looked at Elle incredulously.

"What do you mean you're staying?" Sam asked.

"I'm going to stay here. You guys'll go back to Bobby's and look for the demon. I—I think that last job proved that I'm not capable of doing this job anymore. I just can't. It's better this way," Elle explained.

"Better for who?" Sam asked.

"Sam, if she wants to stay, let her stay," Dean said coming to Elle's defense.

"We're family. Family sticks together."

"If this is how Elle wants to deal with stuff—then let her."

While Dean seemed to be coming to Elle's defense, truth was, he needed some time away from her after everything and this seemed like the smoothest course to take. She was willing to leave and he was willing to leave her behind—for a time. Sam asked if she was sure and she nodded her head. Dean nodded her direction before she got up and hugged him. He patted her back awkwardly before she went over and enveloped Sam in a hug. He hugged her back fiercely.

"You're the one who told me I needed to play the selfish card," Elle whispered in Sam's ear. "And I'm playing it."

Sam nodded his head in understanding before he released his little sister. Elle could swear that there was a slight tear in his eye, threatening to fall. Dean patted Sam's shoulder and they walked out of the Roadhouse. Elle moved to the window to watch her brother's pile into an old truck that Ellen said she could deal without. A tear fell from Elle's eye as she watched her brother's drive away, but knowing that this was for the best. They were far safer without her.


	26. Child of Innocence

*FYI this chapter takes the place of Bloodlust and Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things*

Thud. Elle Winchester woke up quite startled to find herself lying on the floor. She rubbed at her face as her heart rate began to settle and her eyes adjusted to the darkness. It took her a moment to remember that neither Sam nor Dean were there with her. No, she had let them go back to Bobby's without her, leaving her at the Harvelle's Roadhouse Saloon with people she barely knew. That was probably either the stupidest or the smartest thing she had ever done. Time would tell what kind of decision she had made, but for right now she needed to focus her attention on getting back into bed since she had rolled off it. Slowly, Elle pushed herself up and climbed back onto the bed Elle was allowing her to claim for the time being. The rain gently pattered against the window, keeping Elle awake with her thoughts. Thoughts of her brothers, Tommy, Bobby…with a sigh she rolled onto her side and grabbed her cellphone. She unanswered text messages from Sam, Tommy, and Bobby—but none from Dean. She wasn't sure whether that surprised her or not, but she set her phone back down before snuggling under her blankets once more.

Elle's thoughts continued to flashback to her father. Her heart hurt as she thought of her last words to him. Why couldn't she just not have said them? Why couldn't she just have finished it with a just kidding? Why? Why? Why? That was when the tears started again. Damnit. Was she ever going to be able to think about John Winchester without crying? Out of pure frustration with herself she let out a scream and began pulling at her hair and kicking. A few moments later, Ellen came running into her room with a gun at the ready. When the older woman noticed that it was just Elle, she set the gun down on a desk in the room and slowly walked toward the Winchester girl. Ellen sat down on Elle's bed and the young girl quickly began muttering her apologies for waking her up. Elle looked up at the woman unsure of how to react, but she found the older woman gently smiling. Ellen reached for Elle's hand and patted it.

"Honey, this is the third night in a row you've done this," Ellen said softly. "I'm not as young as you and I need my beauty sleep to put up with some of the rowdier folk that come through here."

"I'm sorry," Elle sniffled before she wrapped her arms around her legs. She hated being an inconvenience to people. That was the last thing she wanted to be to Ellen after she had agreed to let her stay here for free. "It won't happen again. I promise."

"Yes, it will. It'll keep happening until you figure out how to keep on living." Ellen's words hit her hard. This was never going to stop. The guilt she felt from what she said to her father—it wasn't going to magically go away. No, she was going to be stuck living the rest of her life like this. She was going to be nothing more than a shell of her former self and there was nothing she could do about it. Elle's chest began to heave.

"I can't. Not after what I said."

"You can and you will. Just gotta start with something small, Elle." Ellen reached out and placed her hand on Elle's shoulder to try and calm her. Elle's eyes met Ellen's and she began to slow her breathing while tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Like what?"

"Like you haven't left this room in three days except for meals. Why don't you come help me out at the Roadhouse?"

"I don't really know much about working at a saloon…except making a Screw-You-Dean." A smile began to spread across Elle's lips. She couldn't help it as she thought back to the case where he made her go undercover at a bar. It was his own damn fault for ordering a drink from her. But if Dean couldn't stomach the thing, then it had to be pretty bad.

"Is that a smile I see?" Elle blushed as Ellen leaned forward with a smile on her face and gently tapped Elle's cheek.

"You'll learn. You seem like you're a fast learner, honey. Now, it's three in the morning and I want some sleep. I'll have Jo swing by in the morning to wake you up."

Ellen gently smiled at the young woman before she stood up and walked out of the room, leaving Elle alone with her thoughts again. It took her quite a bit of time to actually fall back asleep and it seemed like she had only been asleep for five minutes when Jo came into her room. Jo was ready and dressed for the day with her hair in a high ponytail, a black tank top, and a pair of holey jeans. Elle opened one eye to see Jo's face almost pressed against hers. The Winchester girl instinctively backed away as Jo smiled and told her she had ten minutes to get ready. Elle slowly blinked before rubbing at her eyes and forcing herself into a sitting position. She wanted nothing more than to fall back against the pillows again and go back to sleep; but something inside her didn't want to disappoint Ellen. Instead, she got out of bed and walked to the bathroom, her feet padding across the hardwood floor. She took a quick shower before wrapping a big, fluffy towel around her body. Normally, she didn't have such a luxury of nice towels. They were usually scratchy motel towels, but she felt she could almost wear this towel and only this towel. That was, until she looked in the mirror. It wasn't her dripping hair she noticed—no, it were the scars covering her body and face. She closed her eyes and exhaled several times to keep the tears at bay. There was no possible way she could get used to seeing those scars. Not that she was the most beautiful person before or anything, but these scars made her hideous. They made her undesirable and they were a reminder of a secret that there were very few people she could let in on. Her fingers traced the scar on her face until a knock came at the door.

"Elle, you almost done?" Jo's voice came from the other side of the door. Elle fumbled to find the right words to say. Instead, she just opened the door—forgetting that she was only in a towel. For a moment she could see Jo's eyes widen and look up and down at the scars covering her body. Realizing her mistake, Elle quickly went back to hiding behind the door, just poking her head out with her hair dripping on the floor. "I—uh—just let me know when you're ready."

"You're not going to ask about them?"

"Do you want to tell me?" Elle looked to Jo for a moment before shaking her head no. "Then no, I don't want to know and hurry up, Mama will be waiting for us."

Jo walked away leaving Elle standing there in the bathroom. Elle waited about ten seconds before dashing across the hallway and into her room, closing the door behind her. As she crossed the room, Elle ran her fingers through her wet hair before she stopped short of her duffel bag. Originally, she had left the bag at Bobby's, but someone had dropped the bag off at the Roadhouse the day after she had decided to stay. She knew that person to be Sam because when she opened her bag, a letter addressed to her in his handwriting had fallen out of the bag. That letter sat unopened on the tall chest of drawers against the wall. She couldn't bring herself to open it because she knew that if she did, she would probably go running back to him and Dean, which would defeat the purpose. So instead, there is sat and it would sit until she was ready—which could possibly be never.

Elle pulled a green long-sleeved shirt with thumb holes out of her duffel, jeans, and cloud socks before quickly dressing. She laced up her Superman Converse sneakers and ran out of her room, leaving her wet hair just hang there. She quickly descended the stairs to find Jo waiting for her at the kitchen table. Jo stood up when she noticed Elle approaching, motioning the girl to follow her outside. Not saying a word, Elle followed Jo across the dirt path over to the Roadhouse. Jo was trying to explain the morning routine for opening the place, but Elle couldn't really focus on the words coming from Jo's mouth because her phone buzzed in her jeans pocket. She pulled her phone out to see that Sam was texting her. Normally, she'd just ignore it after she opened it, but she couldn't exactly do that this time.

Sam: You have five minutes to answer the following text before I resort to extreme measures…

Sam: You alive?

Elle: No.

Sam: Very reassuring. How are things going?

Elle: Can't talk now. Busy. Bye.

Shoving her phone back into her pocket, she followed Jo through the backdoor of the Roadhouse into the kitchen. Ellen was already busy preparing the ingredients to make some pies. The thought of pie made Elle think of Dean which made her somewhat sad. Why hadn't he contacted her? Didn't he care? They had always been so close for all those years and now complete radio silence. Then again, Dean hadn't really reached out to Sam when he left for Stanford, but being the little sister made things different, didn't it? Ellen wished both the girls a good morning before she told Jo to go up front and take inventory of the bar. Jo nodded her head and walked through the door to the front. Elle moved to follow her when Ellen stopped her.

"You ever made pies from scratch before?"

"Does the kind from the grocery store that you just put in the oven count?" Ellen chuckled and shook her head at the young woman. Elle tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gave a slight smile. "Then no."

"Well, go wash those hands and get on over here and help me."

Elle did as she was told. She walked over to the sink and gave her hands a quick wash before she walked back over to the island where Ellen was busy rolling the pie dough. Ellen told Elle to slice the apples into thin slices. She grabbed the knife and cut the apple in half, then into fourths, before slicing the fourths into smaller pieces. Elle couldn't help but think back to when she was little and Dean had to slice and peel the apples for her because she was stubborn and refused to eat an apple any other way. She knew that she had annoyed her brother with her demands, yet he did it anyway. Distracted from her slicing, Elle accidentally sliced her finger and swore out loud. She dropped the knife and brought the finger she had knicked up to her mouth. One would think that after going through the things she had gown through, a little knick on the finger wouldn't hurt anymore. Ellen showed her where they kept the Band-Aids and Elle put one on her finger and washed her hands once more before returning to slicing.

After the apples were all sliced, Ellen had Elle measure out the ingredients according to the recipe in an old Betty Crocker cookbook before she mixed them with the apples. They dumped the apple mixture into the pie crusts and then laid the top crust on, but Elle messed it up and stretched it out too far, causing a big hole in the middle. Ellen chuckled at Elle's mistake and had her roll the crust into a ball, rolling it out with a rolling pin, before trying again. After the third try, Elle finally managed to somewhat get the crust on. They gave the tops an egg wash before sticking them in the ovens. Elle breathed a sigh of relief when the timer was set. Maybe a domestic life wasn't for her—but maybe with a little more practice, maybe it could be.

Elle's next job included washing down all the tables before they opened. So, she went from table to table with a bucket of hot soapy water and a rag. She had wiped down three tables before her hair started to annoy her. She looked around to make sure that no one was watching her before she threw her hair up into a high ponytail. Since the accident she had used her hair to help cover the scars on her neck and cheeks, but she couldn't work with it in her face. When she was done wiping down the hard surfaces, she walked back into the kitchen to find Ellen checking on the pies in the oven. Basically, all that was left was to wait. As they day wore on, Jo showed her how to bus tables—not that it was all that difficult. You stacked the dishes and brought them to the back to be washed. It wasn't hard work, it was just busy work. Although, it was awkward when an occasional would wolf-whistle at them. Elle just tried to ignore it, but Jo would turn around and tell them to shove it where the sun don't shine.

"Sometimes guys need to learn to think with their upstairs brain," Jo muttered. "They think that I find that flattering. Most guys think a pizza and a six pack will do it for me."

"Abs or beer?" Elle whispered before Jo started cracking up laughing.

"You're funny. But I was talking about beer. Most guys here have a solid one pack." Jo made her gut stick out before she started rubbing it. Elle shook her head and smiled as she stacked some glasses. "What about you? How do guys try and get you."

"Mostly, they don't. I'm with Sam and Dean too much for them to actually get anywhere. Tommy's the first one who…never mind." Elle awkwardly tugged at her hair, releasing it from the messy bun she had it in before she walked back to the kitchen with the dishes she had stacked. Jo followed after her with a grin on her face. Elle set the dishes in the sink. She turned around to find Jo looking at her with the look on her face, but surprisingly she didn't ask anything. It was Elle who actually spilled first. She wasn't sure why she did it. She just did. It was as if she had been waiting for someone to ask about him and this was probably as close as she ever was going to get. "We actually saved Tommy from a Wendigo awhile back and then he came waltzing back into my life and I don't know. He's staying at Bobby's right now and I'm here. It's complicated."

"Is he the pizza and beer move kind of guy?" Jo smirked at Elle as she sat down on the stool. She pulled the other one out for Elle to sit on. Elle looked around the kitchen. This was weird. Never in her life could she remember having one of these discussions. Usually she had her brothers and of course they never wanted to hear such things. Besides, if she ever told them it was just to annoy them and watch them squirm. Elle sat down on the stool and looked at Jo who had a smile on her face.

"I don't know—but that definitely sounds more like my brother Dean—trying to be real smooth with the ladies. I'm too awkward to ever try his tactics, but he's the kind of person who can actually accomplish it."

"Of course he is, but at least he's cute." Jo shook her head with a smile as Elle looked at her new friend with a horrified expression on her face.

"Not you too. I was just starting to really like you."

"Only just starting?"

"Well—no, but…"

"Hey, it's fine and I was just making an observation. If I told you that I thought you were gorgeous would you think I was making a move on you?"

"No. I guess not."

"Exactly. Just a simple observation. But I also think he's one of the good ones and those aren't easy to come by. Now, you've got some dishes to wash and I've got some more tables to wait on."

"Yeah."

"And Elle—call the guy. You hold on to the good ones."

Elle nodded her head before she patted the phone in her pocket and went back to doing the dishes, while Jo went up front to wait on the customers. Elle was glad that she didn't really have to be up front. At least not until the dinner rush. Then Jo rushed back and asked Elle if she would bus the tables while she took the orders. It must've been some sort of hunters reunion because the place was actually packed. Elle had never imagined a place in the middle of nowhere would be quite so packed. She felt so clumsy and awkward compared to them—especially overhearing some of the jobs they had done. Once she finally managed to get to the table, she couldn't help but overhear the conversation at the table next to her. As she stacked the dishes she could hear some hunter going over the details of what he was dealing with to someone else and apparently they were both puzzled. Elle purposely left a few dishes at the table so that she could come back for them as she thought about things. By the time she put the plates in the sink and walked back for the glasses, she had it figured out. She scribbled the word wendigo on a napkin and carefully "accidentally" dropped the napkin on the table as she walked by with the glasses. As she walked back to the kitchen, she looked over her shoulder to see the guy about ready to crumple the napkin before he noticed the writing. He then looked around, slightly confused, but Elle disappeared into the kitchen before being noticed.

That night she actually called Tommy. To say he was surprised to hear from her was an understatement. They talked for a little bit about things—nothing important though. Just how he liked working for Bobby and he was learning a lot about cars between the salvage yard and trying to help Dean fix up the Impala. By fix, Tommy meant, hand Dean a wrench here or get a beer there. He also said that Dean didn't really talk about her unless Sam brought her up. Deep inside, Elle knew that Dean was mad at her. That he blamed her for their father's death—just as much as she did; but he didn't even know the worst part and he never could. Tommy then asked her about what she had been doing. She just told him that she was helping out where she could, but didn't really go into details because she didn't want to bore him with how many dishes she had washed that day or how pruned her hands were. There was a moment of silence before Elle told him that she had to go. She quickly hung up the phone before she could hear that he missed her or anything because she didn't want to hear what she already knew to be true. When she finally did go to bed, she once again cried herself to sleep over her guilt.

For the next couple of days, Elle continued to busy herself with dishes and busing tables. Every now and then she'd slip a napkin here or there if the person looked really stumped, but for the most part she tried to avoid trouble. It was actually rather nice avoiding trouble. It almost felt like the good ol' days before she had gotten dragged into the hunts. Back in the days when she and Sam would stay at the motel room in the forts Dean would build for them before he and their father left. Now that she thought back on it, the times weren't all that bad—but there were enough bad ones to almost cover up the good ones. Trouble-free seemed like a pleasant way to be—but she should have known that she was a magnet for trouble and it would eventually come knocking her way.

In one of their busy rushes, Ellen asked Elle to clean off some of the tables because Jo was busy taking orders while she cooked and Ash tended the bar. Elle took the gloves off her hands—finally figuring out that her hands pruned a lot less that way before she walked through the swinging kitchen door and into the front. She cleared the first table no problem, but the second table was where she ran into trouble. She found no one sitting at the table but there were files on the table. Elle just assumed that this guy had looked at a case for Ellen, but didn't want it—so he was leaving it. So, she picked it up and began looking through the information. The notes were rather meticulous and the handwriting was hard to read. Almost like looking at her father's notes, only harder to read if that was even possible. She was about to put the file back behind the counter when this tall, well-built man came rushing toward her with an angry expression on his face.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing with my shit!" He shouted as he bounded toward her. Elle innocently smiled at him as she set the folder back down on the table and patted it. She was about to explain that it was an innocent mistake when he began laying into her. "Can't a guy take a piss without a woman meddling with his stuff? What's in this folder is none of your damn concern. You wouldn't know nothing about this shit, especially someone like you."

Normally, Elle would simply just apologize and move on, but a fire lit within her—something she hadn't felt for quite some time. Instead she set her jaw and narrowed her eyes at the man. He knew nothing about her, yet he was so quick to judge her. She had probably seen just as much in this life as he had. But that wasn't why she was standing up to him. Maybe, just maybe if he got pissed off enough, she could feel something again and the fact that she simply stood there while he yelled at her seemed to piss him off even more.

"Are you listening to a word I've been saying or are you that dumb?" Elle just blinked. "I'll teach you to talk you little bitch."

The man wound his arm back as if he were going to strike her when suddenly she was pulled out of the way by Ash. He pulled his arm around her middle and pushed her behind him so that he was standing between her and the man. Elle tried to get back in front of him, but Ash held his arm out, blocking her way.

"She was just doing her job, Pete," Ash said. "You were gone and she was trying to clean a table. Let it go, man."

"The way you've let your hair go? I don't think so. That little bitch had no reason to look through my papers."

"First of all, the name-calling really isn't cool. She has a name you know. Beside, you really want to go messing with one of John Winchester's kids?" With a blank expression on her face, Elle's eyes met his cold expression, which seemed to be a little shocked. "Yeah, didn't think so. Now move along—you've had enough for the night."

"I'm a paying customer, Ash."

"I'm cutting you off for the night, Pete. The door is that way."

The man grumbled something about not leaving a tip before he picked up his file folders and stomped out of the saloon like a little kid trying to make a scene in the grocery store. But Elle didn't care. To be honest, she was slightly more miffed at Ash for intervening. She had wanted to pick a fight with the man. She wanted to have a reason to hurt and cry at night. She knew her logic and reasoning didn't make sense, but some people would call that grief. Ash walked a reluctant Elle over to the bar and sat her down on a stool.

"What in the hell were you thinking picking a fight with Peter Greyson, little lady?"

"I wasn't picking a fight. You said so yourself."

"What I saw was you not high-tailing it out of there when you knew Greyson was on a rampage when you should have. Peter Greyson is not a man to be messed with. He's a damn good hunter but he's as bitter and out-for-blood as they come. You don't cross paths with that man. Ever. You do and you usually end up dead. So stay the hell away from him. Got it?"

"Fine—whatever. Why'd you bring my dad into this?"

"Rumor is that a few years back they were both here and he good ol' Pete tried to pick a fight with John Winchester. Your daddy kicked his ass of course and since then John Winchester is the only name he fears."

"Really?"

"The part about your daddy kicking his ass is true," Jo interrupted as she stood there with a heavy pile of dishes in her arms. "The rest Ash must've gotten out of one of those online role-playing games or Harry Potter."

"There's nothing wrong with Harry Potter. Well, since little Miss Winchester here has gone and thrown off my groove. I've got to go get it back," Ash stated as he cracked his knuckles and then fluffed his mullet before walking back behind the bar to serve a new customer.

"Beware the groove," Elle muttered causing Jo to give her an odd look before Jo mouthed Emperor's New Groove. This caused Elle to smile just a bit. She hadn't expected Jo to recognize her reference. For a brief moment, Elle wondered if Jo liked Disney movies too underneath that kick it in the ass exterior. But the moment was gone before Elle could ask as Jo walked her stack of dishes back to the kitchen. With a sigh, Elle grabbed the empty beer bottles from what had been Peter Greyson's table before she went back to washing dishes. When Elle was finally done with her shift, she walked back to the room Ellen was letting her stay in. Once she got to her room, she looked to see that she had a missed text message from Sam.

Sam: Hey Elle

Elle started to text him something back, but each time she erased it. She just didn't have anything good to say to him. Instead she thought of what almost happened with Greyson and tears began to roll down her cheeks and she thought of her father. There was still so much that she didn't know about her father. She had always thought about her mother as a mystery, but John Winchester was almost just as much of a mystery as her mother was. Not to mention that she felt guilt concerning both of their deaths. Elle tried to muffle her sobs as she clutched the key necklace around her neck, but she just couldn't contain them. Thankfully, she was pretty sure that Ellen and Jo were still at the Roadhouse. This was so embarrassing—she couldn't control her emotions. She closed her eyes tight and began to quietly sing Hey Jude, just like Dean used to sing to her to calm her down. She rocked herself and sang until she finally was tired enough to fall asleep as a thunderstorm rolled in.

One week later…

Sam: Elle you there?

Elle: Where is there exactly?

Sam: Finally you text back! Haven't heard from you in like a week.

Elle: Talked with Tommy last night.

Sam: He misses you. We all do.

Elle: Congratulations.

Sam: Dean finally got the Impala mostly fixed. I think we're heading to Montana soon.

Elle: I have work to do. Bye.

When they were open, Elle's job mostly consisted of doing the dishes, which was fine with her. Dishes weren't too terribly hard to do and for the most part it kept her out of the front, unless she had to bus tables when things got busy. Elle set her phone on the shelf above the sink as she set to washing the dishes. That was until Ellen suggested that she come up front and talk to someone. Elle made sure to pull her hair back down and that her clothing was covering as many of her scars as she could. She walked through the kitchen door and meandered behind the bar to where Ellen stood with a guy who was drinking whiskey.

"Garrett, meet Elle Winchester. Elle, meet Garrett Owen. I was just telling Garrett that you might be a good person to bounce ideas off," Ellen said as she smiled and motioned Elle to come closer. The guy held out his hand to shake and Elle looked to the older woman. "Don't worry, honey, he's one of the good ones."

"Winchester? Any relation to John?" Garrett questioned as Elle extended her hand to shake his.

"His uh—daughter," Elle responded as she withdrew her hand from the man's grasp. He gave her a quizzical look before asking her how he was doing. Elle froze for a moment. Her throat seemed to close for a moment and her mouth went dry. Ellen was about to explain when Elle grabbed the woman's arm and shook her head. She took a deep breath before speaking again. "He—uh—he died. Something got him before he got it."

"Sorry for your loss." Elle nodded her head at Garrett's apology. "So, how long have you been hunting?"

"I can't give you an exact date, but I've been surrounded by this crap my whole life. Literally."

"So, you'd be pretty knowledgeable of things then?"

"I'm going to let you two keep chattin'. I have something to check on in the back," Ellen said before she left Elle alone at the bar with Garrett. The Winchester girl watched as the older woman walked back through the kitchen doors before Garrett cleared his throat. Elle then turned to look at him. He appeared to have weathered a fair amount of hunts in his lifetime. Why was it he was coming to her? A little, hurt, and damaged girl. Then it clicked.

"Ellen put you up to this, didn't she?" Elle questioned the man with her gaze focused intently on his, waiting for his reaction. "You don't need my help at all."

"You're good," Garrett chuckled as he nodded his head. "You're observant like any good hunter should be. Can't say that many of them are though. Too many out there that don't know how to use this." He pointed to his head as Elle folded her arms across her chest.

"It's obvious you don't need my help." Elle turned to leave.

"Humor me, Winchester. Take a look. It can't hurt to get a second opinion."

By this point, Elle's back was to him. As much as she didn't want to look at it, he was right about it not hurting to get a second opinion. Although, he didn't seem like the kind of hunter that doubted himself. He didn't seem like her. She turned around and leaned against the bar, resting her elbow on the counter and her chin on her hands. She muttered the word fine before he began digging through a bag hidden from her sight. He plopped down several file folders and told her to take a look.

Elle rifled through the folders: police reports and missing persons fliers. All the people that were missing were children under the age of 10. All of them were taken from their homes right under their parents' noses. All of the kidnappings happened near Fargo, North Dakota. This case seemed oddly familiar. She looked through the school pictures and report cards of each of the four children. Maria King: needs to work on playing with others. Chris Bennett: sent to principal's office for hitting. Annie Michaels: doesn't share well with others. Cathy Young. Nothing was said about her, but her little brother Lyle was said to have seen something hairy and scary when he was downstairs with his sister sneaking cookies. He had ran to his parents room, but his sister never made it. Pushing the papers neatly back into their file folders, Elle closed them and handed them back to Garrett. She was pretty sure that she knew what it was.

"Rawhead," Elle responded. "The fact that it only went after kids significantly narrowed it down, but the fact that it chose Fargo was pretty stupid. It's not like there are tons of kids in Fargo for it to feed on. Then from all the reports, it looked like most of the kids looked to be a troublemakers to some extent, perfect prey for Rawheads. Although, Cathy threw me for a second, but her little brother was with her and he must have the naughty streak. He just managed to get away, so the monster took the closest kid in sight. You gotta find the thing's lair—it's probably at an abandoned section of town, where nothing can be seen or heard. They like basements especially, so it's most likely a house. Check a map of Fargo for an area where a bunch of people recently moved from and cross check that against areas that aren't the safest. It's probably somewhere where those sections overlap. Then, you're going to need to electrocute the thing. A Taser would probably work best, but just make sure that you're not in a puddle of water. You can seriously damage your heart and then you'll have a Reaper on your ass. So—how'd I do?"

"Right on the money, Winchester. Although, I'm not entirely sure how a Reaper came into play."

"Long story short: my brothers and I had a mishap while hunting a Rawhead this last year and ended up meeting a Reaper. So, when are you going to get the son-of-a-bitch?"

"Already did."

"Then why—"

"Your skills are good. Better than most hunters I've seen. Too good to waste being here doing dishes. Ellen told me that she had a Winchester out back washing dishes and I about shat myself. What would your daddy think if he knew?"

"My daddy's the reason I'm here. It's my fault he's dead. I might be good at the logistics when it comes to hunting, but I'm not so great on the follow through. I mean can I? If I have to—sure. But I'm not this extraordinary hunter you're making me out to be." Elle stood up straight and walked away toward the kitchen. She found Ellen standing in the back, as if she were waiting for her.

"Well?" Ellen questioned.

"What the hell was that?" Elle questioned. "He told me that I'm wasting myself. Some shit about my skills being too good to be washing dishes."

"Honey, as much as I hate to admit it, he's right. Am I saying that I want you going out on hunts? No. Of course not. But it might not hurt you to help someone out if they need the help. Help piece together the puzzle and let someone else do the shooting, stabbing, or burning. Don't think I haven't been watching you. Don't think I haven't seen you accidentally overhearing about whatever monster people are hunting when you're bussing table. You're like your daddy and you can't help but meddle."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Ellen shook her head and pulled a napkin out of her pocket. It read salt and burn. Elle blushed for a moment before looking to the floor.

"You've been helping people, why not let them know you're helping them."

"Not everyone wants help."

"If you're talking about to Greyson, he can kiss my ass if he wants to. This is the life you were given, Elle Winchester, and you might as well live it because it will keep going on with or without you."

Elle wasn't sure how to respond. Instead she just sighed and muttered that she would think about it. She then went over to wash the dishes, but she found that Ellen had finished washing them. Ellen then told her that she could take the rest of the day off. With a sigh, Elle hung her house waist apron on the hook before she walked back to the house. She found Jo inside watching TV and Elle could have sworn that she was watching The Lion King, but the channel quickly changed to some terrible reality TV show. Jo nodded at her before Elle headed upstairs to her room. Then she did something that she hadn't done since she had gotten to here—she pulled out her sketchbook and started to draw. Without even meaning to, she began to sketch her father's silhouette as she hummed Hey Jude. She felt sad, but for the first time, she didn't start crying. The tears threatened to fall, but they didn't. Maybe there was hope. Maybe. Just maybe.

Three days later, Elle found herself working the bar with Ash. He was trying to teach her the ways of the bar, but she purposely didn't tell him that she had technically worked a bar before. Partially because his spiel was entertaining and partially because the more he talked the less she didn't. The first part of his training was learning the beers—literally. He had a shot glass filled with each type of beer that they had available on tap or bottled for each of them. Ash motioned for Elle to sit on a stool at the bar. He had taken Ellen's Specials Menu chalkboard down from the wall, erased it, and had written different names of each beer. Apparently, it was going to be her job to figure out which beer matched each description. Elle sat down on the stool, with her hair in face but still managing to give Ash a look of concern.

"What about the mixed drinks?" Elle questioned.

"No one orders those here and if they do, they're a pansy," Ash commented. Elle gave him a look that read really? which caused Ash to shake his head. "First things first my young Padawan. Beer."

Elle rolled her eyes at Ash, feeling more like herself than she had in quite some time. Maybe the worst of it was over. Maybe everything was behind her. Ash then began to teach her. He described a beer to her before having her sample it. He then would ask her if she tasted everything that he had described to her. She lied and said that she did. Truth was—beer was beer to her. Did that make her a terrible person? She had just taken a shot glass of her third beer when the phone rang. Ash told her to run over and answer it, so she jumped off the stool and jogged over to the phone and answered it..

"Harvelle's Roadhouse Saloon, this is Elle speaking, how may I help you?"

"Elle?" a familiar voice sounded which caused a slight smile to spread across Elle's face.

"Sammy? It's good to hear from you. How're things going?"

"You sound really happy. Happier than I've heard you in a long time."

"Yeah, I am. I'm really good. I think the worst is behind us."

"Elle, grief doesn't work like that…"

"Sam, you're not me. You don't know how my process works. Now, I'm guessing you didn't call to ruin my mood."

"I actually called to talk to Ellen."

Elle set the receiver of the phone against her shoulder and shouted for Ellen. Instead of coming, Ellen just shouted back to Elle—asking what she wanted. She then shouted that Sam was on the phone for her. Ellen then shouted asking what he wanted. Elle rolled her eyes before picking the phone back up. "She wants to know what you want."

"I just wanted to know if she knows someone named Gordon Walker."

"He wants to know if you know someone named…" Elle started shouting when Ellen appeared up front. A puzzled look came over Ellen's face when Elle mentioned the name Gordon Walker before she walked over and took the phone from Elle. Elle swore she heard Ellen mutter something about them being great at meeting the worst sorts of people, but she didn't say anything instead she went back to her seat at the bar as Ash continued to explain things about each beer. But Elle listened to Ellen's conversation with Sam instead. She overheard that Gordon Hunter was a good hunter, but then things seemed to take a serious turn. Ellen told Sam not to do something before making the comparison of Hannibal Lecter being a good psychiatrist. Elle's brow furrowed as Ellen told Sam that he and Dean should just being moving along from their current job. After several more exchanged, Ellen hung up the phone and sighed. Ellen looked over at Elle. The girl seemed to have done some healing here. But she knew how fragile a person could be and she was pretty sure that for the first time in her life, Elle Winchester was overestimating herself.

Elle looked over at Ellen and gave the woman a slight smile. She really had come to respect the woman as a mentor and dare she even think it—a mother figure. But it was too soon to think that, right? Ash slammed the counter, groaning that Elle wasn't paying attention. She then gave Ash the best innocent smile she could muster before he continued to explain the beers. When she finally got to the beer tasting test, Ash mixed the shot glasses around which wasn't good because she had memorized them according to their position. Thus, Elle failed the beer tasting test. She only got one beer right and that was because it was a pure guess on her part. Ash deemed that he was just going to have to reteach her and Ellen interjected that it would have to be tomorrow as customers walked inside. Well, it was actually Peter Greyson and some piece of arm candy on his arm. Elle walked behind the bar and stood behind Ash as Peter gave her a disgusted look. She didn't want this douche ruining her mood either, so she walked back into the kitchen leaving Ash with the customers.

Time continued to pass and Elle continued to live and work at the Roadhouse. She could hardly believe it was August 29th when she changed the date on the Specials Menu board. She used a piece of lime green chalk to write the new date, but she hated the feeling of chalk on her hands and even more hated the sound it made against the blackboard. It made her spine shiver. She shook her head at herself—she had gone up against creepy-ass things and yet she almost hated chalk more than those things. When she was done, she pulled out her cellphone to see that there weren't any missed calls or texts. Bobby had given up texting her, Sam texted her every couple days, Missy Bender had been calling a couple times a week, Tommy communicated with her almost every day, but Dean still had yet to talk to her. To be honest, Elle was actually kind of scared to be the one to contact him because she feared being rejected by her older brother. The thought of Dean made her heart hurt and her throat tighten. What if he already knew what she said? But it was impossible.

Ellen came to the front and sat at a table before motioning Elle to do the same. So Elle went and sat beside Ellen as she called for Jo to get her little butt out there. Jo ran from the kitchen with a confused look on her face as she looked at her mother. Ellen then motioned for Jo to sit down. Jo looked at Elle who shrugged. Was this going to be one of those awkward talks? Jo sat down and Ellen gently smiled—which almost scared both of the girls.

"I'm giving you both the day off," Ellen announced. "You both have been working hard. So why don't you go spend the day at the mall or something."

"The mall?" Jo scoffed. "Since when do we spend days at the mall?"

"Joanna Beth, maybe it's something that Elle would enjoy doing. Are you really going to deprive her of that?"

"Do you want to go to the mall?"

"Well, I—uh," Elle fumbled.

"See? She doesn't want to go to the mall," Jo said flatly to her mother as she folded her arms across her chest. But Ellen's mind wasn't going to be changed. She flat out told Jo that she was going to drive Elle to the mall and they were each going to buy something to prove that they had actually been there. "Mom, that isn't my kind of life. I thought we already discussed this, multiple times. I'm never going to be the girl that goes to the mall for a good time. I'm not the kind of girl that is going to live the cookie cutter life with 2.5 kids, driving them to soccer in a mini-van."

"Joanna Beth, you will do as you're told," Ellen said sternly. "Or you can work. Excuse me for being decent enough to give you time off."

"Meet me at the truck in ten, Elle," Jo muttered before she stood up and walked away. Elle looked to Ellen who only gave a slight smile and then motioned for her to get her butt moving.

Ten minutes later, Jo and Elle pulled out of the Roadhouse parking lot and onto the road in an old pickup truck. The air conditioning didn't work, so both girls rolled down their windows. Elle almost immediately regretted dressing in a long-sleeved shirt, but she needed it to cover things. Her scars in particular. She still couldn't show anyone her scars. They still pained her to look at them and they embarrassed her if anyone did catch a glimpse at them. She already had too many customers ask about the scars on her face, but she just tried to ignore them. Elle pulled at the neck on her shirt as Jo sped down the highway. She chatted easily with Jo. Over the past weeks, Jo had basically turned into someone Elle knew she could trust—dare she say it, a friend? Probably the first honest to goodness friend she had ever had that knew what she did for a living…or used to. They were at the mall when Jo's truck came to a stop in the parking lot. Jo pulled out her phone and then turned it off as Elle was about to get out of the truck. Elle wasn't sure how these mall get-togethers worked. She knew people shopped, but she rarely went shopping except for Goodwill. She had just jumped out of the truck when Jo told her to get back in. Elle gave Jo a puzzled look which made her laugh.

"I would much rather go to the shooting range and shoot things than go shopping. You?" Jo questioned.

"Sounds good to me," Elle said with a shrug. "But Ellen said we needed to come back with something."

"And we will. We'll swing by after we shoot stuff. Now let's go." Jo motioned for Elle to jump back in the truck so she did. About fifteen minutes later they pulled into Gunner's Shooting Range when Elle's phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket to find that Sam had texted her again.

Sam: Elle, you there?

Elle: Maybe. Depends. Why?

Sam: Just bored. We're headed to Illinois for a job and Dean's farts are toxic.

Elle: Crack a window?

Sam: I miss you.

Elle: Got to go shoot things.

Sam: What?

Elle: Bye!

Sam: Campbell Mary Winchester what the hell are you shooting?

Elle didn't see that last text because she tossed her phone in the glove compartment of Jo's truck before slamming the door shut and following Jo inside the building. Elle felt somewhat uncomfortable as they walked inside. Partly because there were only guys in the place and partly because she was paranoid they were only looking at her scars. She made sure that she kept her hair hanging over her face so that they couldn't see them. Inwardly, Elle wanted to punch one of the guys who couldn't seem to keep his eyes off her. Jo stopped at the counter and told the guy that she'd like two rifles.

"What are two pretty girls such as yourselves doing at a place like this?" the man responded. His breath smelled terrible as he leaned against the counter.

"My friend and I each would like a gun to go shoot stuff with. You know—bang, bang?" Jo responded sarcastically before she put some money down on the table. The guy took the bill and held it up to the light to see if he could find the watermark. Elle rolled her eyes. This guy was a pig and he probably slept with them the way he smelled. He took Jo's money before he got down two guns and told them to follow him. He led them to their outdoor shooting range.

"Now, it's gonna be extra for me to teach you how to shoot." Jo rolled her eyes and snatched a gun from the guy before handing it over to Elle. The blonde girl nodded for Elle to go ahead and show the guy what she was capable of. Elle gripped the gun before lining up her shot. She thought of all those times when Dean would take her out to shoot. His words kick it in the ass rang through her head as she took her first shot. She perfectly nailed the target farthest from where they were standing. She then looked up at the man and cocked an eyebrow causing him to mutter to himself. "Beginners luck."

"Give 'im hell, Winchester."

"You got it, dude." Elle smirked at Jo's response before she took aim and shot at each of the targets in front of her until her gun was out. Each bullet pierced the target, although that last one went a little too far from the center for her liking, but she made her point. Elle pretended to blow over the barrel of her empty gun when she was done. The guy simply shook his head and went back inside to get them more bullets. Elle was surprised that several of the guys outside managed to give her a round of applause. An embarrassed Elle hid her face behind her hair as Jo took aim at the targets.

Jo's shooting was just as good as Elle's. She hit each of the targets and once again the other males there shooting guns were flabbergasted that a woman could shoot that well. Which was completely stupid. There were women cops, women in the military, and other women who just enjoyed shooting. But no, they had probably come to the most sexist shooting range in the state. Well, they were teaching them. The sun beat heavily upon them and Elle pulled at her shirt. She was warm. Too warm. Jo suggested that she roll her sleeves up, but Elle refused. She didn't want those scars to see the light of day. Maybe that way they didn't exist. The girls each took turns shooting as they chatted.

"So, when are you going back to hunting?" Jo questioned as she lowered her gun to let Elle have a turn.

"Never, hopefully," Elle responded. "Although, I know that one never really leaves the hunters life."

"Do you know what I'd give to be able to go out on hunts like you?"

"It's not all it's cracked-up to be. I mean my dad…he just kinda forced the life on us. I wish I'd have had a choice in it all because I wouldn't have chosen it."

"And my dad left us out of it, to try and give us a normal life so we'd stay out of it and I want in."

"Then why don't you?"

"My mom doesn't want me doing it. It's how my dad died, you know. I remember him going out on a hunt and then never coming back. I never got to say goodbye. So Mama and I just kept on going with one foot in the door one foot out. It sucks. She doesn't think I'd be able to handle my own out there."

"You seem perfectly capable of shooting things to me and that's coming from someone who's hunted for a while now."

"Exactly…exactly." Jo's tone had changed by this point. This time she was looking at Elle with a smile on her face. Elle looked back at Jo hesitantly as the girl continued. "You're an experienced hunter. You could teach me things that I can't just pick up from listening to the Roadhouse conversations. We could be a kickass team."

"I don't know, Jo. I don't wanna piss your mom off."

"God—that's what everyone says. She'll come around eventually once she sees how kickass we are. I mean you said so yourself, I'm already pretty good and we both know you're good—even if you won't admit it. Just promise me that you'll think about it."

"I'll think about it, but I've never really hunted with anyone besides my family and Bobby who is as good as family."

"Well, maybe someday you'll consider me family."

The girls both finished up their rounds before they returned the guns and headed back to the truck. Elle felt like she was sweating to death still in her long-sleeved shirt and jeans. Being insecure in the summer sucked. She panted a bit when they got in the truck and fanned at her face with a roadmap she found in the glove compartment. They stopped at the mall quickly to pick up somethings to make it look like they had been shopping. Jo picked out a few tank top from Sears and Elle got a pair of Tigger socks from the Disney Store before they headed back to the truck. Elle hadn't even realized that Jo parked in the same exact spot she had before they went to the shooting range. Jo picked up her phone and then turned it back on. Elle looked at her curiously before she explained that the GPS on her phone stopped and started at the mall, meaning that her mother should be none the wiser when they got back to the Roadhouse.

When they got back to the Roadhouse, Ellen was waiting for them with an unhappy expression on her face. She knew. You could just tell that she knew they hadn't spent all their time at the mall. Ellen asked them how the mall went—the moment of truth. Jo told her mother that it was as boring as usual and pulled out her tank tops and Elle pulled out her socks. But it was obvious Ellen didn't buy it because then she asked how things went at the shooting range. Busted. Both girls wondered how Ellen found out. Jo even mentioned that she turned her phone off so that they couldn't track her, but Ash piped in that he tracked Elle's phone. Elle left as Jo and Ellen began to argue. Her heart felt heavy as she got to her room and pulled out her sketchbook and tried to draw away the pain that she had been pushing down for days now; but she pushed it right back down—only causing more pressure to build up. It wouldn't be long now until her emotions erupted like a volcano.

A few days later, Elle was washing tables before the Roadhouse opened in a few hours. Jo and Ellen were in town restocking the essential supplies and Ash had taken the day off, probably to do something nerdy. That left Elle alone at the Roadhouse, which she didn't mind. A little alone time never killed anyone, right? She was in cleaning down the bar counter when the phone started to ring. Who could possibly be calling when they weren't even open? Elle assumed that it was probably Ellen asking her to check to see if they needed something she tossed the rag over her shoulder before she walked over to the phone. She picked it up and held it to her ear—not expecting the voice on the other end to be Peter Greyson.

"Need-need to talk to Ellen." Greyson sounded groggy, which confused Elle. Unless he was drunk or something—like the typical hunter.

"She's not here, can I take a message?" Elle questioned sounding more cheery than she felt talking to this man.

"I—I—need—need to talk to a—a hunter. Now."

"I'm the only one here."

"Baby, how did you wake up? Don't worry; I can take care of that." The voice's tone didn't sound right. Then there was this strange hissing sound and the phone dropped to the ground as she could hear Peter struggling and groaning. Elle heard a body plop to the ground. Was he dead? Elle waited a moment before she heard the faint whisper of the word Vetala. Then nothing from Peter, but a voice smoothly said, "Goodbye" before hanging up the phone.

Elle stood there frozen for a moment. Greyson was taken by a Vetala. She wondered if that piece he had on his arm the last time she saw him was the Vetala. He needed help. Despite how much she hated the guy, she couldn't let him die without first trying to save him. That much was in her blood. But she couldn't be the one to do it. She had royally screwed up on the last job and the last monster before that had tortured her near to death. Elle hung up the phone before she ran outside to see if maybe a hunter had decided to spend the night in his truck, but no such luck. She really was the only one on the property. She called both Jo and Ellen's cellphones, but neither of them answered. She called Ash too—but no response. She called Bobby—but Tommy said that he had gone out to get some more hunter's helper. Shit. Then she called the last person she wanted to call. She called Dean. After a few rings, Sam answered the phone.

"Hey, Elle, what's up?" Sam's voice asked.

"Where are you?" Elle questioned.

"Just finished this really creepy case in Illinois. You'll never believe it—this guy wanted to bring this girl back and…"

"Sam, I'd love to hear about it sometime, but right now I need to talk to Dean. It's urgent."

"What do you want?" Dean's voice growled a few seconds later.

"Do you remember that Vetala job a few years back?"

"Yeah, the one where you actually got captured by one and it started feeding on you until I came in and saved your ass?"

"Yeah, that one."

"What about it?"

"My memory's a little hazy, but how many feedings before it kills a person? Three, right?"

"Usually three—sometimes four. Why?"

"Silver knife to the heart, right?"

"Elle, why the twenty-questions about Vetalas? Especially since you already seem to know the answers."

"Dean, I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry and I love you. Please don't forget that."

"Shit, Elle are you going to go do something stupid? Take that back—you are going to go do something stupid. At least tell me what this stupid thing is so I can save your ass."

Elle barely choked out the word goodbye before she hung up her phone. Dean was right—she was about to go do something stupid, but she couldn't just let a man die without trying first. Hopefully, he had only been fed on twice and hopefully he was a stubborn son-of-a-bitch that wouldn't go down after the third feeding. She ran back into the Roadhouse and to the phone. She put the phone to her receiver and dialed *69 to find out the last number that called. She quickly scrawled down the number on the pad of paper by the phone and called the cellphone company she was pretty sure his number belonged to. Elle cracked her neck as she waited for an associate to answer the phone. She was just about to but on the worried daughter act for a man she disliked, but if it saved him…

"Hello, this is Andy how may I assist you and your cellular needs today?"

"Hi my name is Elle and I just got a rather disturbing phone call from my father. I think he might be hurt. I was hoping you could track his number so I could find him and check on him."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can't just give out information like that."

"Please? This is my father we're talking about." Elle let the tears begin to well in her eyes and her throat get a little hoarse. "My mother died about a month ago and he hasn't been the same since. He goes out drinking and doesn't come back. I just know in my heart that something is really really wrong this time. Please, I don't want to lose both of my parents. Daddy's all I have left. If he dies…I—I don't know what I'll do."

"Do you have his number, ma'am?"

Elle gave the man named Andy the number she had written down for Greyson. Thankfully, he was able to track it to an address about an hour from the Roadhouse. She ran back to her room and grabbed her duffel bag before grabbing the keys to Jo's truck. They must've taken Ellen's truck. So, Elle hopped in Jo's truck and took off down the road. Outwardly, she was sure that she appeared somewhat calm, cool, and collected as her father had taught her to be; but on the inside, she was a wreck. She tried to go over everything she knew about Ventalas in her head as she drove. Ventalas were commonly mistaken for vampires. They looked perfectly human, but they masked their snake-like eyes with vertical irises. They had four pointed fangs used to sedate their victims with venom and feed off of them for days. The victim usually died after the third or fourth feeding, meaning that she had to hurry to find Greyson.

Her stomach continued to flip as she drew closer and closer to the location. It was so bad that she almost had to pull over and puke. That or turn around and let Greyson figure things out on his own. But Elle knew what it was like to be held captive by a Ventala. Her hand absently went to her neck as he couldn't help but picture the one that had fed off her. Thankfully, they had only managed to feed off her once before Dean came in and saved her ass. It was stupid really the whole situation. Dean had told her to come inside with him while he investigated something—but being her stubborn self, she refused and stayed in the car. Until she had to go to the bathroom—you know, the typical girl gets out of car, girl gets kidnapped by monster scenario. She was knocked unconscious and next thing she knew she woke up to Dean standing over the two Ventalas dead bodies. She was groggy for a few days afterward, but she was glad that Dean never told their father what had actually happened on that hunt. But this time, she was on her own. This time she couldn't afford to be the damsel in distress although she desperately hoped that someone else managed to swoop in and kick the Ventalas ass so she didn't have to.

The truck came to a stop outside an old abandoned gas station. This was the address where Greyson was apparently being held. It didn't look like much, but it seemed like a secluded enough place to hide someone—not to mention that it was an easy spot to prey upon unsuspecting victims hoping the place was actually open. That was going to have to be her cover to get in—being lost and in need of help when she would surprise attack the thing when it wasn't expecting it. Just in case the thing was watching her, she pulled a map out of Jo's glove compartment and put a puzzled expression on her face as she slowly reached into her duffel bag where Sam had thankfully packed her a silver knife of all things. Still acting up the puzzled thing, Elle stuck the knife under the back of her shirt, tucked into her jeans. She bit her bottom lip hard, causing it to bleed before she jumped out of the truck. Kicking the dirt as she walked, she finally stumbled to the door of the gas station. She put her hands on the glass and pressed her face against the hands to look inside.

"Hello?" Elle called. "Hello? Is anyone there? I'm seriously lost. I just need to use your phone. Hello? Hello?"

Elle pulled at the door which read push. She quickly realized her mistake and pushed on it and it opened, just as she expected it to. If they were trying to trap people, it was best to lure them inside. She walked inside and called again to see if anyone was there. Suddenly, someone came out from the back. Sure enough, it was the piece of arm candy Greyson had the last time she saw him. How could he be so stupid to try to hook up with a Ventala? Then again, she was stupid enough to come and try and save his ass when she knew she wasn't ready for this, but maybe that was why she came. Elle tried to put on her act for the Ventala, but it wasn't buying it. It lunged at her. Elle dove onto the floor, but the Ventala managed to get a grip on her leg. It then swung her into the shelving, causing it to collapse. Elle groaned in pain when the thing picked her up by the neck and held her in front of her face. She half expected the thing to feed on her right then and there, but this thing was pissed and played with her dinner. Instead, it threw against the glass cooler cases, causing the glass to shatter. For a moment she wondered why she wasn't getting any assistance. Why was no one helping her? Was she truly alone?

She lay in a pile of glass, unable to get up. She just hurt too badly to move not to mention that every move she did take, more and more glass pierced her flesh. The Ventala stood over her and chuckled before it got down to her level, practically straddling her. It sheathed its fangs and slowly moved its mouth toward Elle's neck. As Elle lay there, a part of her wanted to let it feed on it. A part of her wanted to die right then and there. A part of her knew she deserved to die. As the Ventala inched forward, it was then Elle realized that this had never been about saving Greyson. This had been a suicide mission from the start. This was exactly what she wanted to happen. She wanted the easy way out—because she was too cowardly to do it herself, why not let a monster take her down for the count? Just do it already, Elle thought, but then something happened. Her phone began to ring from her pocket and she recognized the ringtone. It belonged to Dean. Dean was calling her. Despite however pissed her was at her, Dean was calling her. Something momentarily surged within her. Despite the glass tearing at her skin, she reached her arm behind her back and grabbed hold of the knife before plunging it into the Ventala—straight in the heart.

Elle watched as the Ventala's eyes widened before it fell back and began to shrivel up into its reptilian form. Slowly, she sat up and looked at the thing. She had almost let it get her. She had almost let it kill her. That wasn't all right. She wasn't all right. She had been putting on an act for the sake of those at the Roadhouse, but she realized that she wasn't going to be all right any time soon. She covered her face with her hands as the tears streamed down her face. Partly from all the pain she was in, but mostly from being so confused and guilt-ridden. What would her father think if he could see her now? He most certainly wouldn't be proud of what she had just done. Then again, neither would Sam or Dean. Dean. She had momentarily forgotten about his phone call as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. He had left her a voicemail. She punched in her passcode and listened to her brother's voice which made the tears flow even harder.

"Elle, I tracked your phone. Where the hell are you going? If this has something to do with a Ventala, I'm going to kick your ass seven ways to Sunday. Sam and I are on our way back and your little ass better be at the Roadhouse when we get there or I swear to god I'm going to kill you. Sammy says I can't kill you, but if you're hearing this, I think you get the point. Bye."

With tears still falling down her face, Elle picked herself up from the floor. She got up and walked to find Greyson unconscious behind the counter. She hurt as she bent down to see if he was breathing, which he was. But in her current state, there was no way she was capable of lifting an unconscious fully-grown man over six feet tall into the truck. Instead, she hopped up onto the counter to sit there and wait until he was somewhat lucid so that they could get back to the truck. While she waited there, she examined herself—noting that her pinky finger was dislocated. She screamed as she popped it back into place which seemed to rouse Greyson.

"You look like shit," Greyson said groggily.

"You should see the other guy," Elle muttered before she attempted to help Greyson to his feet. His grogginess and her injuries did not make for a good combination to get them both out to the car. After what seemed like forever, Elle and Greyson finally both were in Jo's truck. Greyson in the passenger's seat, asleep and Elle driving.

By the time they got back to the Roadhouse, Jo and Ellen ran outside to meet them. Bruises were already beginning to show on Elle's body and her little finger was quite swollen. Ellen asked her what happened, but Elle only responded with one word: Ventala before she walked away, leaving Greyson in the truck. She walked back to the house, ignoring the looks from Jo. She went up to her room and locked the door behind her. She needed to be alone with her thoughts. She curled up with the pillow on her bed and began to cry once again, only this time she cried herself into hysterics. What was wrong with her? Why was she doing this? What was she doing? When would it stop? These were only a few of the questions plaguing a broken Elle Winchester. There was only one thing of which she was certain somewhere along the line she effed things up and now her life was a complete and utter mess. A mess that she didn't think could be cleaned.


	27. Simon Said

A broken young woman with scars up and down her body sat in an examination room waiting to be seen by the doctor. Elle sat there silently learning more about the nasal passage then she ever cared to while swinging her feet which didn't quite touch the ground from the chair. Ellen had suggested that she visit the doctor following her last encounter with a Ventala and saving Peter Greyson's ass. The older Harvelle woman had tried her best to tweeze the shards of glass from Elle's wounds, but the Winchester girl was still in pain. Hence, the doctor's visit. The more Elle thought about it, the more she hated going to the doctor. She wasn't allowed to be herself here. It was just another charade she had to put on…another mask she had to wear. Today, she was playing the part of Elle Smith. Besides, it's not like they would be able to find anything on Elle Winchester anyway. As far as the United States government knew—she didn't really exist. Well…kind of. There was no legal birth certificate in her name, which made sense given her entrance to this world. So she technically was an alien. Huh. God, how much longer was this doctor going to take? It should be a crime to make people wait so long to be seen.

Fifteen minutes later, a knock finally came at the door. The doctor opened the door to find a bored Elle Smith asleep, resting her head against the little counter space allowed him. He cleared his throat once, but she didn't move. He called her name gently but she still didn't respond. He then tapped her on the shoulder, but he wasn't expecting her to snake her hand around his wrist, dig her nails into his skin, and bringing him to his knees on the ground in pain. The doctor let out a hiss, knocking Elle to her sense. She immediately released her grip on him and covered her mouth with her hands realizing what she had actually done. Elle began to profusely apologize as she helped him back to his feet. He gave her a funny look for a moment but then he accepted her hand to help. Elle ran her fingers through her messy hair as she sat down and stared at the floor—that was some impression. Just like clockwork, tears began to leak from her eyes. How could she have been so stupid to do something like that to an innocent? Hadn't she spent her life trying to protect those kinds of people and here she was…The doctor looked at her and sighed.

"I've seen this type of behavior before," the doctor whispered as Elle slowly raised her head. Could it be possible? Did he truly know about the world she lived in—with demons and ghosts? But her hopes were immediately dashed when he said, "In abuse victims. Do you feel safe at home?"

Elle's blue eyes met his hazel ones. Why was everyone asking her if she felt safe? No. She never felt safe—but if she ever tried to explain why—those people would never feel safe again either. Those people would be dragged into her world, a world she wished on no one. Elle muttered that she was fine and just had been in a car accident. The doctor didn't seem to buy her story, but he let it slide and then began asking her some of the same questions the nurse before her did. Why did she have to explain her story to two people? It was hard enough to keep stories straight with one; but she wasn't a novice at this sort of thing. She rattled off her pains and injuries before the doctor told her to hop up on the examination table. For a moment, Elle tried to plan how exactly to jump up on top of the thing because it was quite high, but the doctor chuckled and pulled out the bottom step for her to stand on, just like a child would need. With a sigh, Elle hopped onto the step before turning around and sitting down on the exam table.

The doctor did the usual routine, checking her heart and her lungs with his stethoscope before he then started looking over her cuts. Only they weren't all fresh. Some of these were scars and oddly enough, the new cuts didn't intersect or even touch the old ones. Elle pointed out the one that bothered her the most: the one on the back of her neck where glass had been buried fairly deep and Ellen had to use a pair of tweezers to get the small shard out. The doctor backed a few steps away to look the young woman in the eyes. "Clearly you should have been brought here for stitches, but I see evidence of a homemade job, that seems to be holding up."

"But it still hurts," Elle groaned as she rubbed at the back of her neck. "Everything hurts."

"I can imagine it would, especially with your preexisting injuries. Are you on pain meds from them already?" Elle shook her head slowly. "Then it's no wonder you're in pain. But I'd like to get an x-ray just to make sure there isn't any other damage I'm not seeing. Then we can see about getting you something to manage your pain."

Just like that the doctor left as Elle still sat up on the examination table. This was exactly what she had been expecting to happen—the doctor to prescribe her pain medication. Everything had fallen into place, just as he knew it would. She knew that if Dean knew what she was doing, he'd be very disappointed in her. He would throw the pills out as soon as she got them. Hell, he'd probably even be arguing with the doctor right now if he knew what she was doing. But he didn't. Dean didn't have a freaking clue about anything, nor would he. She knew that he would probably be back at the Roadhouse by the time she got back there, but he wasn't going to find out about the pills. She just needed something to stop the pain; but she hoped that they would stop more than just the physical pain. That maybe, just maybe, they could numb the heartache inside. She knew it was wrong; but yet, here she was anyway. This was the one thing in her life that she could control and damnit, she was going to control at least one aspect of her life.

But simply accepting the prescription wasn't as far as Elle was willing to go. She looked around and slowly walked over to the door, poking her head outside to see if anyone she recognized was nearby. Not seeing the doctor or the nurse who had already visited, Elle quickly shut the door before running over to the locked drawer under the doctor's work space. She pulled a paperclip out of her pocket and exhaled slowly. She was nowhere near as professional at picking a lock as Sam and Dean were, but she knew she could manage. She just had to be quick about it. She just about had it unlocked when there came a knock at the door. Elle quickly stood up and turned her back to the door to make it look like she was reading the nasal passage poster again. The nurse took one look at her and apologized, announcing that she had the wrong room. Elle simply looked at her and nodded as the woman shut the door. She then went back to opening the drawer and once it was opened, she was the doctor's prescription pad. It was completely wrong, she knew it—but it was the only way. The only way she could maybe get back to normal.

Elle quickly pulled the pad out of the drawer before peeling three blank prescription slips from random places in the stack. She knew that two in a row would be easily noticed, so she pulled one from the middle and one from the back. By the time they eventually caught on to the missing prescriptions, they would never even think to trace them back to her—or at least she hoped they wouldn't. Besides, Elle Smith wouldn't be picking up all the prescriptions. She had plenty of other fake forms of identification to cover her tracks. She shoved the scripts in an inside pocket before she put the pad exactly where it had been and then shut the drawer. Elle then sat back down on the chair, just in time for another nurse to come in to take her to get x-rayed.

By the time Elle left, she had her somewhat legal prescription for Vicodin. Once she was back in the truck Ellen had let her borrow, she sat there for a few minutes studying the signature on the script. The last step in this process was going to be forging the signature and writing the script in his signature. Thankfully, if there was one thing John Winchester had actually taught her how to do well, it was forging documents. But she didn't want to be in the hospital parking lot when she forged them, so she put the truck into drive and parked on the street a few blocks from the pharmacy. Quickly, she forged the other two scripts before shoving them in her shoulder bag that lay on the floor of the truck. She wasn't stupid and she knew that she was going to have to go to another pharmacy to fill those scripts, but that was her plan to avoid going back to the Roadhouse and inevitable meeting with her brothers. The longer she could avoid them, the better. Right?

After Elle had filled all three prescriptions and various pharmacies in the area, she made her way back to the Roadhouse feeling slightly guilty; but she quickly brushed the feeling aside. These people wanted to help her, right? Well, this was exactly how they could help her. Besides, the two stolen scripts were in case of emergency, like she couldn't get her hands on a legal prescription. Just in case she told herself. Besides, she did have one legitimate script, that had to count for something. As she pulled up toward the Roadhouse, she saw the black Impala sitting outside, but Elle pulled the truck around back, closer to the house. She had a small window of opportunity to stash her goods before a) her brothers came to greet her or b) Ellen made her go out to see them. Slinging her shoulder bag over her arm, Elle ran toward the house and almost flew up the stairs to her room. She dumped her duffel bag and grabbed the tan steel-toed boots she kept stored toward the bottom and rarely wore. She pulled the socks and underwear she wasn't sure were clean out of the boots before shoving one prescription in each of the toes of the boots before shoving the underwear and socks back in. They should be safe there. The other bottle should be fine in her shoulder bag. Elle's heart was beating quite quickly as she collapsed on her bed, on top of her mess of laundry from her duffel bag…just in time too.

There in her doorway stood her brother Sam and he had the goofiest grin on his face. It was obvious he had missed her—well, aside from all the texts and phone calls, the look on his face said it all. Funny, she didn't remember him being this excited to see her when she showed up on his doorstep at Stanford and that had been years since they had seen each other. This had only been a little over a month and from his face; you'd think it had been a decade. Sam closed the distance between them and enveloped his baby sister in a hug. Elle let him hold her for a minute in his bone-crushing hug, not wanting to hurt him. It eventually became hard for her to breathe.

"I think you broke my kidney," Elle gasped for air. Sam immediately released her and apologized for hurting her. She took a step back and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "So—uh, where's Dean?"

"He's next door," Sam responded flatly. It was obvious that he didn't really want anything to do with her. Elle folded her arms across her chest before she plopped back down onto her bed in a sitting position. Sam, not wanting to sit on her clothes, took the chair across from her bed. "It's good to see you, Elle-Belle. I've missed you."

"Is he still mad at me?" Elle's voice quivered a bit at the innocence of her question, going back to the subject of Dean.

Sam's expression knew how much his answer meant to her—but he couldn't exactly lie to her, she deserved that much. "Dean's always mad at someone, but you're not number one on his kill list."

"But he is mad at me." Elle rubbed the palms of her hands against the eyes. "That's just fan-freaking-tastic."

"Let's go over and see him. We both need to talk to you about something." Elle's head immediately shot up from her hands as she looked straight at her brother, but he already knew what she was going to say so he responded, "You'll find out when we're both there. C'mon, I'm sure Dean wants to hear about this Ventala mess you got yourself in to."

Elle groaned as Sam stood up and walked over to her and ruffled her hair…just like old times. He offered her his hands to help her up. Rather reluctantly, she placed her hands in his and he pulled her to her feet before once again hugging her tightly. He whispered to her how much he missed her and that everything was going to be okay. With his arm wrapped around her shoulder, he walked her to the door before she stopped him. She told him that she would meet up with him in a minute; she just wanted to change clothes which felt like they were drenched in sweat. Wanting to keep the peace between Dean, she rifled through her clothes to find a long sleeved band t-shirt he had gotten her. He had taken her to a Metallica concert in Phoenix back in 2004, when it had just been the two of them and Dad had gone off on some job of his own. Dean had wanted so badly to go to that concert and she he somehow managed to finagle to get those tickets for the two of them. While she didn't particularly enjoy that band, she did enjoy getting to see her brother happy that night, which in turn made her happy. That's where Dean had gotten her the shirt from. She had only worn it a time or two to wear to bed, but this was a small gesture on her part. She only hoped that Dean recognized it as such.

She quickly slipped on the fresh Metallica shirt before she pulled the bottle of Vicodin out of her bag. Elle exhaled slowly as she looked at the bottle. Was this really so wrong? She was in pain after all. She opened the bottle and slid a pill into her hand. She was just about to put it in her mouth when Sam knocked on her door and told her to hurry up. This caused her to drop the pill on the floor. She groaned as she twisted the cap back on the bottle and shoved it into her bag while she went to the floor in search of the fallen pill. She found it, but this time she pocketed it and went out to meet Sam who was leaning against the wall with a bored expression on his face. Elle gave her brother a shy smile before she took a few steps toward him and they walked back over to the Roadhouse together.

Sam quickly filled her in on everything that was going on with Tommy back at Bobby's. Dean still didn't know that she and Tommy were complicated and Tommy was helping Bobby out working on fixing cars...among other duties. Usually, they consisted of answering phones when another hunter was in need of something or another; but most of this Elle already knew. To be honest, she actually talked to Tommy almost every day. It was probably because in the back of her mind, she equated him with normal, something she desired. Yet here she was dragging him into her mess. Sam opened the front door to the Roadhouse for her and she nodded her head in thanks before going inside.

Inside, Elle found Dean sitting at the bar talking with Jo. Jo smiled at her, but Dean didn't even turn to look at her. He just took another sip of his beer. Elle sighed and looked up at Sam who gave her a slight smile. He then motioned with his head for her to follow him. Elle looked over at Ellen who was going through some paperwork. Ellen gave her the reassuring smile she needed to follow Sam over to where Dean stood.

"Hey Dean, looks who's here to see you," Sam said as he nudged Dean's arm with his elbow. Dean turned around and looked right at her. He gave her a slight wave with his hand before turning back to his beer. "I'm going to go check on Ash and see how things are coming along."

"Check on him for what?" Elle questioned.

"Dean, why don't you fill her in and I'll be right back." Sam patted Dean's arm before he took off toward Ash's room in the back., leaving Elle with Jo and Dean.

Jo offered to get Elle a beer, but Elle opted for a Coke instead, knowing that pain meds and alcohol didn't mix well together. As Jo got Elle her drink, Elle sat down on the bar stool next to her big brother. She tried to position herself so that he could get a better look at her t-shirt as she bit down on her bottom lip. Why did she always have to try to please people? Why couldn't she just be a take-no-crap-from-anybody type of person? Jo set the glass of Coke down in front of Elle before she leaned against the bar.

"Did Elle tell you about that Ventala? Greyson won't shut up about her and how kickass she was-and that means a lot coming from someone as rough and set-in-his-ways as Greyson," Jo directed toward Dean. Dean didn't say anything, he just nodded his head. "Elle you should tell him."

"It was nothing," Elle muttered before taking a sip of her Coke.

"Nothing? You saved Greyson's ass. The way he tells the story you're a damn hero and I have never heard Greyson talk about anyone but himself that way. Mama will agree with me on that. You impressed one of the best hunters out there. That has to mean something."

"Jo…"

"You never could take a compliment," Dean said with a smile on his face shaking his head before taking another sip of beer. "Besides, I've always told you that you were good enough-you were just too modest or stubborn to believe me."

"Are you still mad at me?"

"Doesn't really matter right now. What matters right now is I've got until Sammy gets back out here to convince you to come with us. Now I know you left for a reason-however stupid it was-but you gotta hear me out on this one. Let me just get one thing clear-I think that Sam and I can handle this one on our own, but he's convinced that we need you...that you were there."

"There?" Dean looked over at Jo before asking her if she could get him a bacon cheeseburger. It was obvious that he was just trying to get rid of her. Jo knew what he was doing too-but still, she gave Elle some alone time with her brother and went back into the kitchen as Elle leaned closer toward Dean. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Sam had a premonition and you were in it. He says this is an all-hands-on-deck situation-so I'm gonna go with him on it. I'm also supposed to tell you that he says we'll bring you back when this one is done."

"Sam told you to say all this didn't he? Let me guess, he gave you a cheat sheet for all of this too?"

"Elle, Sam wants you on this one-end of story. Are you in or out?"

"How long are you going to hate me?"

"I don't hate you; I'm just pissed. There's a difference. You'll always be my annoying kid sister who you can't help but love. Now, I'm going to go see what's taking Sam and Ash so friggin' long and don't you dare touch my burger. Oh! And you better have a decision by the time I get back with Sam."

Dean set his beer bottle down on the counter before he stood up and walked toward the back room. Jo peeked her head through the window back from the kitchen to watch as Dean walked away. Elle sighed before she heard footsteps slowly approaching her. Sam and Dean were with Ash—so it could only be one person: Ellen. Ellen squeezed Elle's shoulder before she took the other seat beside the Winchester girl. Elle looked over to the older woman she had come to immensely respect. Ellen gave her a smile before she started talking to the young woman she had come to consider almost like a second daughter.

"You should go with 'em, sweetie," Ellen said. "I know you're going to argue that you don't think you're ready, but at some point, you just got to get back to living. Being with your brothers is about as normal as you're gonna get."

"But I don't know that I want to go back to that life," Elle argued. "I got out for a reason. It's too messed up. I'm too messed up."

"Honey, you know as well as I do that you never got out of the life. You've been here helping hunters with information…actually going out and saving other hunters. You've separated yourself from this life about just as much as I have since William died. As much as I hate to say it—this life is in your blood…it's in mine. Does it suck? Hell yeah—but we just gotta play the cards life's dealt us and there's nothing wrong with that. Besides, if they say they need you—then they need you. The Roadhouse ain't going anywhere, I promise you that. So, go ahead I think Jo and I can manage a few days without you."

Ellen rubbed Elle's arm gently before she walked back into the kitchen. Elle just sat there staring at the wood of the bar, fiddling with her hands. She didn't want to go. She really didn't. But if she was in Sam's premonition, she didn't really have a choice in the matter, did she? Not to mention that she had been at the Roadhouse over a month—she couldn't hide out forever, despite how badly she wanted to. No, eventually she just needed face life again—no matter how much life just continued to shit on her. This shouldn't be so conflicting. She should want to go with her brothers, right? The only family she had left. She should want to spend time with them; but truth be told, she didn't want to and that made her feel guilty. Even more guilt on top of her already overwhelming pile of guilt was not something she needed. So, it looked like she was going with her brothers only because she didn't want something else to feel guilty about.

She chugged the rest of her Coke before she wiped her mouth and headed back to the house to get her things. Once inside, she walked upstairs to her room and began shoving a few clothing items into her duffel bag. If she didn't bring them all with her, then she'd have an excuse to come back and she wouldn't have to stay with Sam and Dean. This was just for one job, right? And technically, she didn't even know if it was a job—all she had been told was that they needed her. Elle plopped back onto her bed, staring straight up at the ceiling when pain began shooting down from her neck. She reached to rub it when she remembered what was still in her pocket. If she was going to be spending time with her brothers, then she definitely needed a pick-me-up. Elle slowly walked over to the bathroom. She popped the Vicodin into her mouth, turned the sink on, and drank from right under the faucet before swallowing.

Grabbing her lightly packed duffel and her shoulder bag, Elle headed back for the Roadhouse. When she got inside, she found Sam and Dean in the back room with Ash. She made her way back there and stood in the doorway, but her brothers' backs were to her. Ash cleared his throat and motioned with his head toward the door where Elle was standing. Sam and Dean both looked at her as she stood there with her messy appearance, toting two bags and a tired expression on her face. It was Elle who broke the uncomfortable silence first as she shifted the weight of her bags. "Well are we going or not?"

"You actually convinced her?" Sam said in disbelief.

"Must've," Dean said with a shrug.

Normally, Elle would have some sort of witty remark, but instead she just looked away and bit her bottom lip. Sam took this as their cue to leave. He thanked Ash for the information he had given him which was in a manila folder. The boys both stood up before they walked outside. Still unsure of her decision, Elle slowly trudged behind her brothers, dragging her feet in the gravel as she walked. As she approached the Impala, she noted that the backseat was covered in the boys crap—bags, clothes, old food wrappers. She felt a slight pang at her heart. Clearly they weren't missing her as much as Sam claimed.

Again, Sam was the one to notice her vacant expression as he apologized and quickly moved to clean the backseat to make room for her. Dean on the other hand, just sat behind the wheel, impatiently waiting for Sam to get done. Sam then moved his and Dean's duffels to the trunk before he started picking up the trash. He then looked over to Elle, who had a rather far away expression on her face and if he wasn't mistaken, she almost looked sad…still. He had hoped that she had dealt with thing enough by now so that they could get back to business—but maybe this trip was just what she needed. He then offered her the front seat, but she gave a quick glance to Dean before she refused. Elle muttered that the state of the backseat was fine—she was small and wouldn't take up much room. Sam got out of the car and wrapped his arms around his sister.

"This is gonna be good—just us against the world," Sam said as he hugged her.

Elle wasn't convinced. She gently pushed back from her brother before she crawled in the backseat. She sat curled up, with her feet up on the seat and hugging her knees as Dean put the Impala into drive. Elle turned her head and watched as the Roadhouse disappeared from the sight. Her heart began to ache at the thought of leaving the place that had begun to actually feel like home to her. But Sam seemed happy to have her back. He looked over his shoulder several times just to smile at his little sister, who simply sat there. She didn't talk, didn't play her Gameboy, didn't draw, didn't read—she didn't do anything except breathe and blink and that somewhat worried Sam. Why wasn't she getting better? He had kept tabs on Elle with Ellen a multiple times and it sounded like she had been getting better from what Ellen had told him. But then why wasn't she acting better?

Night fell as the Winchesters continued down the highway in the Impala. Elle changed positions a few times, but she still hadn't spoken, which Sam found unnerving, especially since she had spent so much time away. You'd think that after something like that, you couldn't get her to shut up—but the most noise that came out of her was a sneeze or the sound of her knuckles cracking. This wasn't going how Sam had expected. He just wanted his little sister back—his snarky, smartass, and sweet sister…not some shell of her former self. Sam looked back at Elle but she didn't look at him, instead she just watched out the window. Sam then turned to Dean and smacked his arm.

"Hey, I'm driving," Dean muttered. Sam then motioned with his head to the backseat where Elle sat. Dean rolled his eyes and looked back at his little sister. She didn't even seem phased by anything and just continued to stare in the distance. He then turned his attention to the road for a second before looking back over to Sam, speaking in a whisper. "So?"

"Do something," Sam insisted.

"You do something." Despite Dean's eyes being focused on the road, he could see Sam's bitch-face in her peripheral vision. He groaned and looked back at his little sister again. He opened his mouth to say something, but he just shook his head and started tapping on the steering wheel. Then out of nowhere he started singing…terribly. "And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight. You're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter night. And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might…"

"You're kidding, right? Of all the somethings you could have done, you start singing REO?"

"I heard the song somewhere—I can't get it out of my head. Don't look at me like that, Sam."

"Like what?"

"Like what you're doing now. Don't. Do. It." A loud sigh came from the backseat causing both Sam and Dean to turn their heads sharply to look at Elle who now sat cross-legged with her elbows resting on her knees and her head in her hands. "So—uh—Sammy, why don't you fill Elle in on things."

Sam shook his head, disappointed that Dean seemed to still be avoiding Elle. For weeks now, he had avoided talking about her unless absolutely necessary. They were family and Dean just needed to get over it. Sam sighed before he turned so that he could see both Elle and Dean. "I had this premonition and things got really bad. People died."

"What about me?" Elle asked innocently.

"What about you?"

"Dean said I was there…in your premonition."

"Did he now?" Sam gave Dean a rather perturbed look. Dean looked over at Sam and groaned.

"So I lied…a little white lie. I lied to get her to come along. It was the only thing that would work since you're so damn insistent that she come along," Dean growled. Elle's brow furrowed for a moment before she shifted uncomfortably before Dean muttered an apology. "Sorry."

"Anyway, Ash found this guy named Andrew Gallagher. He was born in eighty-three, like me. Lost his mother in a nursery fire exactly six months later, also like me…"

"You think the demon killed his mom?"

"Sure looks like it."

"Was she pregnant when she died?" Elle whispered. Sam turned and gave Elle a puzzled expression. "I just want to know if that was a part of the equation—like I was."

"There's no evidence of that. There's never been any evidence that the mothers were pregnant."

"Except me." An awkward silence hung over them for a moment.

"Dad just must've had super sperm or something—there's no reason to think that you're a part of this," Dean stated as he looked back at his sister before turning toward Sam. "Now what I want to know is how did you even know to look for this guy?"

"Every premonition I've had, if they're not about the demon—they're about the other kids the demon visited. Like Max Miller, remember him?" Elle coughed at the mentioned of Max with a disgusted look on her face, but she didn't say anything. Instead it was Dean who responded.

"Well, Max Miller was a pasty, little, perverted psycho."

"The point is that he was killing people, Dean and I was having the same type of visions about him. And now it could be happening all over again with this Gallagher guy."

"How do we find him?"

"Dunno—there's nothing current on him. He's not currently employed, he's not paying rent anywhere, and he still owes money on all his bills: phone, credit, utilities. Seems like he just up and left everything."

"Give it here," Elle interrupted holding her hand out to take the folder. Sam looked shocked that Elle was actually willing to participate. She motioned with her hand for him to hand the folder over to her. Sam handed her the folder before she immediately began sifting through documents—her mind whirring. "Looks like about a year ago he just up and quit everything…about the same time shit seemed to hit the fan with you too, Sam. Meaning that if he is one of the kids the demon visited—his life probably went to hell the same time. He's probably scared—but not scared enough to leave the place he's ever known to be home. My guess is that he's probably still in town, but hiding out somehow so he won't draw too much attention to himself. So, we should go to his last job—someone there's got to know something and we follow the bread crumbs from there." By this point, Sam and Dean were both looking at her simply blinking. "What?"

"That's the most you've said all day," Sam commented to which Elle just shrugged. Dean then started to chuckle.

"Elle had that for like a minute, Sammy. You're losing your touch," Dean stated.

"I was getting there."

"Sure you were."

"I was."

"I'm going to sleep now," Elle stated as a matter-of-fact, not really directed at anyone as she tossed the file folder back into the front seat. She grabbed her duffel bag and plumped it up a bit to work as a pillow before she lay her head down on it. Sam and Dean didn't say anything as she lay there simply staring at the ceiling. She wasn't really all that tired, but she didn't really want to talk anymore. She was emotionally exhausted.

Dean turned on the radio and was in the middle of a Kansas jam when Sam changed the station on him. Daniel Powter's Bad Day came through the speakers. "What the hell, man? What is this crap?"

"Says the guy who was singing REO," Sam scoffed. "C'mon man, for Elle."

"Elle listens to my music," Dean argued, but Sam just glared at him. "Fine, but this music is still crap and if we crash, it's because my ears are bleeding. So you don't get to complain if we die because it's your fault."

The next morning, the Winchesters found themselves at the coffee shop where Andrew Gallagher had last worked. They hadn't sat at their table more than five minutes before Elle escaped to the bathroom. Thankfully, it was just a one person bathroom, so she locked the door behind her. She set her shoulder bag down on the counter before she pulled out the bottle of Vicodin and set it on the counter. Closing her eyes, she focused on her breathing. Her eyes slowly opened and she examined herself in the mirror. She had pulled her greasy hair back into a tight bun to look more professional, but that left the scars on her face plainly visible. She had tried to cover them up with make-up, but they were still obvious. She shifted uncomfortably in a hideous pant-suit that practically hung on her bones. Elle didn't realize how much weight she had lost since…since everything had gone terribly wrong.

A knock came at the door, which startled Elle. She called that she was going to be a minute before she reached for the bottle of Vicodin. She opened the bottle before she downed a pill and took a drink from the sink. She shoved her stuff back in her bag, flushed the toilet, and ran the sink for a moment, before she opened the door to find a little old lady waiting to get inside. Elle nodded her head before she walked out to the table where she had left her brothers, but they seemed to be in the middle of a conversation. Elle leaned against the wall and watched the conversation until the guy and lady went back to their jobs before she went back to the table. She had just sat down when Dean abruptly stood up and said that it was time to go. Elle looked to the untouched cup of hot chocolate and slice of pumpkin bread that Sam must've ordered for her before looking up to see Dean walking out the door.

"We'll just get it to-go," Sam said before he walked up to the counter. He came back with a to-go cup and poured Elle's drink into the cup for her before he placed a tip on the table and opened the door for his sister. Elle walked out of the coffee shop nibbling on her pumpkin bread. Sam looked over at his sister. "He'll get over it eventually, he always does."

"I'm not so sure he will this time," was all Elle responded before she opened the door to the backseat of the Impala. She had barely gotten in the car when Dean ripped out of the parking lot. Sam navigated them to Orchard Street where the barista apparently had told them they could find Andrew Gallagher in a van.

It didn't take long to spot the van with what was a barbarian queen riding a polar bear. They sat parked in the Impala outside the guy's van for probably about ten minutes. Elle slowly sipped her hot chocolate as Dean started to nod his head to the beat of the music being emitted from the Andrew's van. Elle had no idea what the song was; but Dean seemed to recognize it. She looked over to Sam who clearly looked worried about something. Normally, she'd reach out to him—but she didn't. She didn't know why, she just didn't. Instead, she just sat there sipping her hot chocolate. Sam awkwardly played with his collar which got Dean's attention.

"Sam, you look like you're sucking a lemon, what's going on?" Dean questioned. While for the most part Elle felt numb, she was slightly angry that Dean noticed Sam was bothered by something. He hadn't taken the time to see if anything was bothering her since before Dad died. She narrowed her eyes slightly and continued to sip her drink while she listened to her brothers converse.

"This Andrew Gallagher, he's the second guy like this we've found, Dean. The Demon came to them when they were kids, now they're killing people," Sam stated. Dean argued that maybe Andrew Gallagher could be innocent, but Sam just shook his head. "My visions haven't been wrong yet…and—and I'm one of them."

"No, you're not. So you're a bit messed-up, we all are—it comes with the territory."

"Dean, the demon said he had plans for me and children like me."

Elle drifted into her own thoughts of the Demon. She closed her eyes tight and tried to concentrate on her breathing so that she wouldn't break down into tears—but her thoughts stayed focused on the Demon and what he had told her. My dear, as much as I would enjoy killing you in front of him, you have friends in high places that I wasn't anticipating last time. Nevertheless, I'm not as naïve this time around. I've shall we say, learned from my mistakes. You see, for the longest time I couldn't be certain how you survived that night and the very depths of hell with no more than a scar. But I have since unraveled the mystery. Did the Demon have a plan for her too? He had never called her one his special children; but a mistake. What did that mean? She had to play into all of this, didn't she? But no one would believe her. The only person who probably would understand was dead.

"Guys. Guys. I see him," Sam suddenly announced as she slapped at the window. Elle's eyes immediately looked out the window to see a disheveled guy dressed in a long satin robe embroidered with dragons on it walking out of a building. He stopped for a moment and blew a kiss at a woman sitting in a second-story window in her underwear. Elle was slightly baffled by the situation. Him? Really? They continued to watch as he greeted a man who then handed him his cup of coffee. He then shook the hand of another guy when Sam spoke up "That's him. The older guy, that's him, that's the shooter."

"All right, you keep on Mr. Shooty-Pants and I'll stick with Andy. Go," Dean said.

"What about Elle?" Both Sam and Dean looked back at her sitting there with her now empty hot chocolate cup in her hands.

"I'll—uh—I'll go with Sam," Elle stated. Dean just nodded his head as Elle slipped out of the car. She walked beside Sam as they tailed Mr. Shooty-Pants. They kept a safe distance behind him so he wouldn't be too suspicious, but close enough so that they could see him. Well, Sam could see him being so tall—Elle could only see the guy weaving in and out of foot traffic. "So what exactly did you see this guy do?"

"He was acting normally and then he got a phone call, walked into the store, shot the guy behind the counter before shooting himself. It seemed like it was something completely out of character for him too. Like he was being compulsed or something."

"You think it was the phone call? That maybe Andy called him?"

"Makes sense."

"So, we make sure that he doesn't answer that phone or talk to Andy. That doesn't seem too hard…right?"

"You distract him and I'll do one better." Sam then took off in a sprint. Elle shouted for him to come back, but he didn't. Instead, he continued to run across the street, passing in front of a stopped bus.

For a moment, Elle panicked. She ran her fingers through her hair which was falling out of her messy bun. Why did he leave her? He should have known better than to leave her. Elle closed her eyes and tried to formulate a plan of action when a phone started to ring. Her first instinct was to reach for her own phone, but as her hand moved for her pocket, her eyes caught the man Sam said was the shooter pulling a phone out of his pocket. There was no time to come up with a plan—that left only one thing to do: improvise. Elle started to run toward the man. Her body ached from the lack of running in her recent weeks of life, but if her running was going to save innocent people, then she was sure as hell going to continue. She was just about to the man when she couldn't bring herself to a safe stop and instead went flying at him, tackling him to the ground. At least she successfully kept him from answering his phone by pocketing it when it fell out of his hands, despite the fact that she awkwardly lay on top of the man was who trying to push her off.

The man stood up and crossed the street toward the gun store. With a groan, Elle followed after him. They got to the other side, when she tugged at his arm, but she tugged a little too hard causing his phone to go flying from her pocket when the fire alarm for the gun store started to go off—stopping the man in his tracks. Elle bent down to reach for the phone, but her eyes caught a strange sight, stopping her hand mid grab. She saw a black Impala whir by—but Dean wasn't the one driving it. No, Andy was driving the Impala. Wait a minute, Andy didn't have an Impala—he had a van. As the car drove by, she caught a glimpse of an orange Tigger in the rearview window.

She had been so consumed with watching the Impala that she didn't realize that Dr. Jennings had bent down beside her to pick up his phone. He thanked her for finding it, but she didn't respond because her thought turned to Dean. If Andy had the Impala, where was Dean? Was he ok? Sure he was a little moody—but she didn't wish her brother dead. Elle moved a little down the sidewalk to see if she could see Dean as people began to flood from the building across the street. A phone started to ring, but Elle was too far away from Dr. Jennings to keep him from answering. She tried hurtling toward him again, but she was still several yards away when he answered his phone and then started to cross the street. Elle followed after him, hoping that she could somehow still intercept him. She was just about to step out into the street when a strong pair of arms wrapped around her.

Elle looked back at the unfamiliar face whose arms enveloped her and she started to panic. She tried to fight the creep who was trying to hold her against her will. Her mind flashed back to her time held captive by the Demon. The man told her to be quiet, but she started screaming which caused everyone's attention to be one her and not Dr. Jennings who in that split second, he was hit by a bus. Everything seemed to move in slow motion for a moment as Elle froze before falling hard to the sidewalk. Elle could have sworn that he actually looked back at her, just standing there—waiting to be hit by the bus. Blood began to soak the knees of her jeans as she lay curled into a ball on the ground hyperventilating. Would everything always go back to that? She had just killed a man. If it hadn't been for her, he wouldn't be dead in the street. The man who had held her back from going into the street and meeting the same fate ran toward Dr. Jennings. Why was it that everyone around her died? Was she cursed?

Several people tried to help Elle to her feet, but she refused their help. Instead, she just lay on the cold, hard sidewalk until Sam came running over to her. He yelled for the people to give Elle her room before he pulled Elle into his arms. "Are you ok? What happened?"

Elle pulled away from Sam and sat in a sitting position with her arms wrapped around her knees watching the scene in the street. "I told you this was a bad idea, but you didn't listen. You guys never listen."

"Elle…" Sam reached out to touch his sister, but she turned her back toward him as she rested her head against the knees as the tears began to fall. Damnit—she was sick of the freaking tears. Why couldn't she just have a switch to permanently turn them off?

Dean came running up to find his siblings sitting on the curb as the paramedics rushed over to Dr. Jennings' body. He crouched down to the level of his siblings. It was obvious that Elle had been crying over something from the sniffling she tried to hide. He reached a hand out to touch her, but hovered over her shoulder for a moment before dropping his hand back to his side. Instead, he placed his hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam gently shrugged Dean's hand from his shoulder.

"We kept him out of the gun store. I thought he was okay. I thought Elle…I should have stayed with him. It's my fault," Sam stated.

Elle didn't say anything to contradict him, despite the immense feeling of responsibility she felt for the situation, but what she read from the situation was that Sam should have known better than to trust her. While she knew it to be true, it still didn't make a punch to the gut feel any better.

"Whatever happened, there's nothing we can do about it now. We need to go find Baby," Dean stated as he stood up.

Both Sam and Elle were slow to follow Dean, but they did. The Winchester didn't say anything as they searched the streets to find the Impala. After about fifteen minutes of searching they finally found the Impala parked. When Dean spotted the car, he started running toward it. Sam and Elle just walked side by side.

"It wasn't your fault," Sam muttered as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"That's not what you implied earlier," Elle stated, leaving Sam staring at her with a confused expression on his face.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Elle didn't say anything. Instead, she just looked over at Sam and shook her head, folded her arms across her chest and walked away from Sam toward Dean and the Impala. Dean was practically kissing the Impala when she got over there, but she didn't join in Sam and Dean's conversation. Instead, she opened the backdoor and got down on her haunches to grab her bag. She looked over her shoulder to make sure that her brothers were distracted before she pulled out the bottle of Vicodin. She knew that she was going through this a lot faster than she had last time—but she just needed one. She just needed the pain, physical and emotional, to go away. She grabbed someone's half-empty water bottle from the floor before taking a swig of it and knocking back the pill. This had to get easier, right? There were moments she felt normal, but those were few and between.

Quickly stashing the bottle of Vicodin before either of her brothers spotted her, Elle stood up and leaned against the car just watching Sam and Dean. Were they really the key to helping her get her life back on track? Because right now, she just felt like she was walking on eggshells as far as they were concerned and that was no way to live life. But she was distracted from her thoughts when Dean suggested that they go back to Andy's van and give things a once over. Elle didn't really care, she just wanted this to be done. So, she slide into the backseat and waited for the boys to get in the car.

When they got to Andy's van, Dean grabbed a small crowbar from the Impala's trunk and used it to pry open the back door. All three Winchesters were somewhat shocked by what they saw. There was music worthy of a porno playing, a disco ball hung from the ceiling, shag and fur carpets, a tiger painted on the wall, large books, and an enormous bong. Dean voiced Elle's thoughts for her—that this guy didn't really seem like the serial killer type. But something wasn't adding up. He had all the signs of being a child the Demon visited, but this didn't show that he lived that kind of life. Sam was visibly frustrated as he slammed the doors shut once again. It was obvious he was searching for something and Elle knew she should reach out to him, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. She just kept silent and went back to the car, just as she had done for most of this job already.

Dean drove them to a minimart to purchase some food. Elle got a corn dog that she had to microwave. It was strange being back to these eating habits. At the Roadhouse, despite not always eating a lot, she had home-cooked meals most of the time. Right now she was back to road food—and this wasn't something that she missed. The Winchesters ate their food back in the car. Dean tossed the tinfoil from his hotdog into the backseat, Elle tried to swat at it, but she missed.

"Ugh, you know—one day I'd love to just sit down and eat something I didn't have to microwave at a minimart," Dean groaned. "Hell, I think I'd even prefer Elle's cooking."

"My cooking has improved, thank you very much," Elle actually retorted surprising herself causing Dean's head to snap back and look at her. She blushed and awkwardly pulled some hair behind her ear. "I—uh—I can make pie now."

"You're lying," Dean said with his mouth still full of food.

"Nope. Ellen taught me and my apple pie is freaking worth it." Elle gave Dean a hint of a smile as she thought back to when they had been in Burkitsville, Indiana with their pie that almost killed them. Well, technically it was a Norse god—but still, it all went back to that apple pie. Dean nodded his head and it seemed like he was actually going to engage her in a normal conversation when Sam interrupted and brought them back to the case.

"I don't get this guy's motive. I mean, the doctor was squeaky clean, why would Andy waste him?" Sam groaned as he continued to look through a stack of papers. Dean responded that he wasn't sure it was Andy, which kind pissed Sam off. "Dude, enough. The doctor was mind-controlled in front of that bus. Andy just happens to have the power of mind control. You do the math."

"I'm not sure that's a great idea. Didn't Dean fail math in high school?" Elle commented with a slight smirk on her face. A faint sense of normalcy was back—but Elle knew it had nothing to do with her brothers.

"You shut it. It wasn't that I was bad at math, I just paid more attention to the pretty girl in front of me than I did to the learning," Dean said at Elle trying to hide a smile before turning toward Sam. "I just don't think the guy's got it in him, that's all." Sam wasn't buying it and just when he started getting on Dean's case about bending over backwards to defend Andy—the son-of-a-bitch showed up right outside the Impala and leaned in through Sam's open window.

"Hey! You think I haven't seen you two? Why are you following me?" Andy hissed. Elle looked to her brothers for how they were going to deal with this. Dean seemed to tense up with a somewhat strange expression on his face as Sam tried to calmly explain that the cover story they had established. But Andy wasn't buying it. "Tell the truth!"

There was a strange echoing to Andy's voice this time, but Elle didn't know why until Dean blurted out that they hunt demons. Dean was being mind-controlled into telling Andy the truth. "Demons, spirits—things your worst nightmares wouldn't even touch. For instance, let's start with my sister Elle. I'm freaking pissed at her because deep-down I blame her for getting my dad killed. Not to mention that she's got a weird ass backstory that I can't wrap my head around. I try to tell her that she's not in this mess, but you know I can't help but think that she might be. Speaking of the mess-Sam here, he's my brother…" Sam hissed for Dean to shut up, but Dean just kept going. "I'm trying, Sammy. Anyway, Sam here's psychic. Kind of like you. Well, not really like you, but see, he thinks you're a murderer and he's afraid that he's going to become one himself, 'cause you're all part of something terrible. And I hope to hell he's wrong, but I'm starting to get a little scared that he might be right."

"Okay, you know what? You guys just leave me alone." Again, Andy used demonic voice again causing Dean to instantly agree to him. Elle on the other hand wasn't falling under this guy's spell. What scared her was that she didn't know why. She Sam wasn't falling under his spell because he was one of them. But her? It didn't make any sense. Andy started to walk away when Sam got out of the car. "What are you doing? Look, I said leave me alone! All right? Get out of here and just start driving and never stop!"

"Doesn't seem to work on me, Andy," Sam said.

Or me, Elle thought, but she made no motion to get out of the car. Instead, she pulled the keys from the ignition which Dean had started after Andy told him to. She wasn't quite ready to give herself away yet. As Sam continued to talk to Andy, Dean got out of the car. Unsure if he was still being mind-fucked, Elle got out of the car behind him. Sam held up a hand for them not to come any closer, so Elle wrapped her hand around Dean's arm to keep him back.

"It all started about a year ago, didn't it? After you turned twenty-two. Little stuff at first, and then you got better at controlling it," Sam started to explain when Andy asked him how he knew all this. "Because the same thing happened to me, Andy. My mom died in a fire, too. I have abilities too. You see, we're connected, you and me."

Elle closed her eyes and rested her head on Dean's back not wanting to figure out how she played into all of this. It was better to just ignore it, right? Andy tried the mind-control thing again. Dean tensed-up a bit when Andy told them to get out, but Elle held him in place while Sam just continued to question Andy. He asked him why he made the doctor walk in front of the bus. Elle tried not to replay that scene in her head, but the fact that he looked right at her before he died was a haunting image seared into her memory. But when she opened her eyes, she saw Sam with a pained expression and his hand at his temples. She knew what was happening. Sam was having a vision. Both Elle and Dean ran to Sam's side as his vision came to an end. They grabbed him and gently lowered him to the asphalt.

"Sam, what is it?" Dean whispered. "What did you see?"

"Look, I didn't do anything to him," Andy said defensively with his hands up. Groggily, Sam started to explain that there was a woman at some gas station who was burning alive. She was going to kill herself. This didn't sit right with Andy. "What does he mean, going to? What is he—what is…"

"Shut up!" Elle and Dean said simultaneously. They looked to each other for a moment before Sam started to explain more of what he saw. That the woman had apparently been triggered by a call on her cellphone, just like Dr. Jennings. Elle stood up and walked over to Andy and held her hand out toward him. "Phone, now." Andy pulled a phone out of his pocket and placed it in Elle's hands before he started to explain that he had never hurt anybody, but Sam wasn't buying it. Suddenly, a fire engine roared by with its sirens blaring.

"Go, both of you," Sam said to Elle and Dean. While Elle didn't like the plan of leaving Sam with Andy, it was smarter idea to separate Andy from his phone in case her clumsiness got the best of her again. Dean and Elle started jogging to the Impala to follow after the fire engine while Sam told Andy that he was staying with him.

Elle hopped in the front seat, beside Dean. It almost seemed just like old time. Almost. Only she knew that things weren't going to be like old times—especially not after Dean's admission to Andy back there. Most of what he had confessed, she had suspected, but right now she couldn't focus on that. There was a woman in need of being saved. Neither Elle nor Dean said anything to each other on the ride to the gas station. Things were just too complicated and Elle wasn't sure that they would ever get past this. The Impala came to a stop across the street from the gas station where the fire trucks were putting out a fire.

"Damnit. We're too late," Dean growled. He then pulled out his phone and called Sam. "Hey, it's me. She's dead. Burned up, just like you said. It happened like minutes before we got here. I mean the smell of burning flesh hasn't even cleared. What's up with your visions man? This one wasn't even a head-start. I mean, you were with Andy this whole time and Elle has his phone, so it can't be him. It's gonna be somebody else doing this. Elle and I are going to do some digging around to see what we can find."

After managing to get the woman's name from someone watching on the streets, Dean suggested that they go to City Hall to get a glimpse at the records, but Elle had a better idea when she noticed Sam's laptop. Instead, they went to Starbucks. Dean shifted rather uncomfortably as they went inside, feeling completely out of place. Elle sat down at a table and started the laptop before connecting to the Wi-Fi. Elle looked at Dean shifting in the chair across from her.

"If you're worried about our cover, go get me something to drink. Anything without coffee," Elle commented as she started typing on the computer. Dean sighed and went up to the counter as Elle continued to use some of the tricks Ash had taught her. When he got back with an iced tea, he asked her what she was doing to which she responded without even looking up or missing a beat. "I'm hacking their records database."

"You're what?"

"Ellen's not the only one to teach me something. And before you start freaking out, we'll be out of here before they figure out the signal trail ends here. I just wouldn't look right into the cameras if I were you." Elle's hair was in her face as she continued to type furiously with her tongue sticking slightly out.

"You've changed."

"I don't want to talk about it…at least not with you."

"If this is about what I said when Andy…."

"I'm in." Elle said ignoring Dean's attempt to explain himself. She knew she probably should have let him explain himself, but she wasn't sure that she wanted to hear his lies. Although, she shouldn't be exactly pissed because she was harboring her own secrets; so avoiding the situation all-together seemed best. "Let's see here—Holly Beckett gave birth when she was eighteen in…shit…1983. If I cross that with a date of birth…just as I thought—same day Andy was born."

"Can you get at Andy's birth certificate to see if Holly was his mother?"

Elle started typing again, but nothing was showing up in her search. She tried again, but still nothing. "No, they must be in the process of updating their records because it's not on the system. That or someone deleted the cyber trail to it. But there should be a hard copy only at the county office and the only one who can request that would be…"

"Andy. We gotta go."

Elle quickly logged-out of the system and off the Wi-Fi before she and Dean went back to the Impala. Dean called Sam to see where he was before they went and picked him and Andy up to head down to the county office. While Dean talked with Sam and Andy, Elle stayed in the car debating taking another Vicodin. She knew that she was using them too quickly, but for some reason, they seemed to help normalize her, especially around Sam and Dean. There were so many things today that she had done today, that she was sure she wouldn't have been able to do without the substance. But before she could actually make a decision, Sam, Dean, and Andy slid into the Impala. Andy sat beside her and Elle hugged her bag tightly as Dean drove to the county office.

They then sat and waited in the parking lot until it was dark outside. Andy requesting a copy of his birth certificate would take too long. So instead, they had to break-in, which really wasn't a big surprise. Elle felt herself growing more nervous and jittery as she knew the Vicodin was wearing off. When they finally left the car, Elle slipped her shoulder bag across her body, before following the boys inside. Andy mind-controlled the security guard to let them inside and to lead them back to where the records were stored. But when they passed by the bathroom, Elle stopped and told the boys she'd be right back.

"Really? Of all the times to use the bathroom: when we're breaking in?" Dean questioned.

"You get your period and then we'll talk," Elle stated as she shut the door behind her. She took the pill quickly before she closed her eyes and leaned against the door, trying to concentrate on her breathing. When she got outside, she found Sam, Dean, and Andy waiting for her. Dean made a comment that she forgot to flush. Elle quickly rushed in and flushed the toilet before following the boys back into the record's office.

The security guard was waiting for them in the room where the records were held, but he appeared to be getting cold feet saying that he probably shouldn't have let them in there. But Andy, used his mind control powers and told the guard that everything was fine. He convinced the guard to go get a cup of coffee before throwing a Stars Wars reference on the man by telling him that these weren't the droids he was looking for. Elle shook her head as she dug through a file cabinet as she overheard Dean mutter the word awesome.

"I got it!" Sam stated. Elle, Andy, and Dean walked over to where Sam was standing trying to get some more light from the moonlight shining through the window. Sam flipped through papers before nodding his head. "Yeah, Andy, it's true. Holly Beckett was your birth mother."

"Huh. Does anyone have a Vicodin?" Andy asked. Elle visibly tensed at the mention of Vicodin. She was going to have to get more control on the situation, but thankfully Sam kept going with more information before Andy noticed her obviousness.

"Dr. Jennings was her doctor too. I mean, he oversaw the adoption. You have a solid connection to both of them."

"Yeah, but I didn't kill them. I swear to god."

"We believe you, but who did do this crap?" Dean questioned.

"I think I got a pretty good guess. Holly Beckett gave birth to twins," Sam stated.

Silence over took the group for a moment. Andy found a chair to sit down and process the information. He didn't seem to be taking it well. Elle sat down on a low filing cabinet and sat cross-legged, while Dean leaned against the wall beside her. Sam on the other hand started pacing the room as he continued to read the file. It was fifteen minutes later before Andy finally spoke.

"I have an evil twin," Andy muttered.

"I always wanted one of those," Elle yawned with her eyelids drooping from having very little sleep since she left the Roadhouse.

"Holly put you and your brother up for adoption. And you went to the Gallagher family, obviously, and your brother went to the Weems family from upstate," Sam stated. "Uh—says here, Ansen Weems has a local address."

"He—he lives here?" Andy questioned.

"Elle work your magic on the DMV database," Dean said gently pushing Elle.

She slowly walked over to the computer and started typing. Thankfully, it technically wasn't hacking the DMV from this computer since the record's office had direct access. She moved to the search bar and typed in Ansen Weems and a copy of his driver's license popped up on her screen. "Umm—guys, you got to see this."

The boys crowded behind Elle to see that it was the guy from the coffee shop. Andy was beyond shocked when he recognized the guy before he muttered one word: Tracy. Elle quickly shut down the computer before they ran back to the Impala. They piled in and Dean peeled the Impala down a dark road. Sam asked Andy to tell them what they knew about the man who was actually his twin brother. Andy said that he didn't know much—just that the guy went by Weber and that he showed up eight months ago acting like he was his best friend. In hind-sight it made sense, but at the time it seemed like the guy was trying too hard. Dean questioned the name change, when Sam groaned and curled into a ball. He was having another premonition.

Dean pulled over to the side of the road and Sam opened his door to lean out of it. For a moment, Elle thought he was going to puke, but instead, he just put his feet on the ground and leaned against his legs trying to catch his breath. Elle climbed over Andy to get to Sam's side while Dean ran in front of the car to get to his side. For a moment, Andy sat there watching the sibling moment. He knew that there was something going on between them, but he could easily see that they were there for each other. For a moment, jealousy panged at his heart until Sam explained that in his premonition, he had seen Tracy taking a swan dive. Jealousy was overtaken by anger. Andy had to save Tracy. She was probably the person he cared for most that was still alive.

The Impala soon sped off again before coming to a stop near the bridge, hidden by trees. Sam, Dean, and Elle got out of the car and circled back to the trunk. Dean opened it and began rifling through the weapon cache. Elle reached for a gun when Sam put his hand over hers.

"You two should stay back," Sam said.

"No arguments here. I had my head screwed with enough for one day," Dean responded.

Elle simply nodded her head before she grabbed her gun, just in case. Sam pulled two handguns out of the back before he walked toward Andy, who insisted on coming with him. Sam tried to talk him out of it, but Andy told him that he was going down there with or without him—so Sam reluctantly gave in. Elle watched as Sam walked away with Andy before she sat down on the edge of the trunk while Dean continued to rifle in the weapons cache before he pulled out a rather large gun that could be used at a distance.

"What are you doing with that?" Elle asked.

"Back-up," Dean responded. "You stay here with the car."

Elle nodded her head as she watched Dean head into the woods with his gun. She wanted nothing more than to stay in the car, doing nothing; but there was something deep inside of her that told her Sam and Dean were going to need her. She tried to fight the urge. She wanted out of this life, but it seemed like the harder she tried to get out, the harder she got pulled back in. Besides, these were her brothers she was talking about. They were all she had left now.

Slowly, Elle followed the trail that Sam and Andy had taken down toward the bridge with the gun in hand. She made sure to be very careful as to not reveal herself. She hid behind the closest bush to the scene. She could see both her brothers from her vantage point. Dean was slowly crawling to find a spot with an open shot, but when Elle looked to Sam, she found him lying on the ground, Andy was by his brother, and Tracy was standing on the ledge ready to jump. Shit. Not good.

"Why did you kill our mother? Why? And why Dr. Jennings?" Andy pleaded.

"Because they split us up! They ruined our lives, Andy! We could have been together this whole time. Instead, of alone. I couldn't, I couldn't let them do that. I couldn't let them get away with that. No," Andy's evil twin hissed. Suddenly, Weber turned toward the direct spot where Dean lay with his sniper rifle. "I see you. Bye…."

"Pick one someone your own size you piece of shit!" Elle shouted as she ran out from behind the bushes making herself visible. She was breathing heavily. She wasn't exactly sure what she was doing, but she knew that she needed to get this guy's attention off Dean.

"Well, well, look who we have here," Weber scoffed. "Another innocent victim. Come here."

Elle blinked slowly before she started to walk toward him. She wasn't under the guy's spell or anything, but she wanted him to think she was because if she could get close enough, she could accurately shoot him. Elle could hear Sam yelling at her to run, but she continued closer toward Weber who was now laughing. "Stop."

She stopped right in front of him. It was all an act that she had to keep up. Because honestly, she knew that this was another suicide mission. Why did she keep setting herself up for these? Elle pretended to look away from Weber as she pretended to shake with her gun hanging at her side.

"Raise your gun," Weber said. Elle's arm started to shake. "Now turn it on yourself." Again, Elle did as she was told.

"Please don't," Elle pleaded, trying to give him a chance out of this. She forced the tears to stream down her cheeks. "Please."

"Pull the trigger."

"If you say so."

Elle then quickly turned her gun on Weber and shot him in the stomach. He fell backward onto the ground and his hand fell to his stomach. Weber called Tracy's name and was about to tell her to jump when the sound of another gunshot echoed through the air. This time it didn't come from Elle's gun, but blood splattered against her just the same. She looked up to see Andy standing there with a wide-eyed expression still holding the gun.

Despite being covered in blood, Elle ran over to where Tracy stood and carefully helped her off the ledge. Tracy wrapped her arms around Elle and started crying. Elle felt rather uncomfortable, but she allowed the girl to cry on her because she knew what it was like to not be in control of your own emotions. Together, the girls walked over to the wall where Sam and Dean were sitting on, but they kept their distance.

"What do I do now?" Tracy sobbed.

"I wish I could tell you that I have it all figured out, but I don't," Elle responded. "I'm going to be honest here: things are gonna suck for a while. They'll get better and then they might suck again. But just know that what Andy did was because he cares about you."

"I don't know that I can trust him after what he did."

"Sometimes people make choices that they wouldn't normally make to help other people."

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience."

"I guess. I don't even know anymore. I just know that life is screwed up."

Elle sighed as she leaned her head back against the wall, looking up at the stars. How was she connected to all this? The Demon had called what he had done to her the first time a mistake—and yet now she was immune to the powers of one of the children he visited. None of this made any sense. Then again, not much about this life did make sense. Sam and Dean came over and told her that they had to get out before the cops started asking them questions. Tracy started to gently cry again. Elle's heart hurt for the girl, but all she could do was say goodbye before she piled back into the Impala.

The Winchesters drove back to the Roadhouse. Elle slept most of the way back, exhausted from the case. Which she was thankful for because neither Sam nor Dean tried to engage her in a conversation about how stupid she had been back there. She was becoming increasingly more reckless with her life when she went back into the field, but there really wasn't anything she could do about that was there?

Finally back at the Roadhouse, Elle walked the boys inside and directed them to the bar before she told Ellen that she was going back to the house for a shower, something she knew she needed because honestly, she couldn't remember the last time she showered. Not to mention that she knew she would feel a bit better after a shower. Elle stood in the shower longer than necessary, letting the water cleanse her from the blood that still stuck to her. Faces flashed in her head: Dr. Jennings, Weber, and her father. She had played a part in all these people's deaths. She started to have a panic attack. Elle shut the water off and just sat in the tub concentrating on her breathing before she got out and took a Vicodin. She knew that wasn't necessarily the purpose for the drugs, but if psychosomatically she could tell herself it was working—then it was worth it.

When Elle finally managed to get herself calmed down, she wrapped herself in a towel and walked back to the room she had left somewhat a mess. But was surprised her most was that Sam sat on her bed waiting for her. Elle awkwardly adjusted her towel in front of her brother before she carefully tried to grab some clothes and escape to the bathroom to get dressed. She stayed in there longer than it normally took her to get dressed, but she was hoping that Sam would take the hint and leave, but no such luck. He was there when she got back again. Elle could smell the faint smell of whiskey on his breath. He looked at her with a pained expression.

"I don't know what you want from me. I've tried giving you your space. I've tried keeping you close. What do you want Elle?"

"Honestly, I don't know," Elle said with tears in her eyes. "I feel bad if it seems like I'm playing tug-of-war with you. I'm not purposely trying to do it." Elle sat down on her bed and rested her head against her brother's shoulder. They sat there for several minutes in silence before Sam broke it.

"I gotta know-how did you break his control over you?"

"Because he never had control over me."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Sam, there's something I need to tell you."


	28. No Exit

Warning: prescription drug abuse mentions.

Sam looked at his baby sister quizzically as she stammered again that she had something to tell him. Elle closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her damp hair. While she longed to spill her secret about her last conversation with her father to her brother—she knew that she should start smaller. There was another secret she had fully yet to reveal. Granted, she had already told Sam more about the situation than she had ever told Dean; but their father was dead. There was nothing to keep her from telling him about what really happened that night. If Sam reacted alright to that, then maybe it would lead toward the other secret on her heart. Elle slowly let out a puff of air before she turned to Sam with tears shimmering in her eyes.

"I've been keeping a secret from you for a long time, but I think you know it. I'm different too. I don't know how or what, but there are things about me that aren't normal. I mean I was able to resist Weber and Andy for god's sakes," Elle started. "That—that night I disappeared and ended up with Dad in Wisconsin. We—we went back in time or something. I got to see how I came into existence. There was this thing… I don't know what it was; but it has the power to manipulate time and when it talks, it feels like the earth is shaking. It said that it returned me to Dad for a reason. That my birth was prophesied or something. I don't know. None of it makes any sense; but Dad and Bobby made me promise not to tell you and Dean until we figured out what it was, but we're no closer to figuring out what it was and it's been months, almost a year and—and I just can't keep this all to myself anymore because I'm scared. I'm scared that I'm going to start doing crazy shit. I get dreams too. It talks to me in my dreams and—and it helps me. I—I just…I don't even know anymore."

Sam stared blankly at his sister for a moment as she started to cry harder. He watched as Elle curled herself into a ball, covering her face with her hands. While he wasn't sure what to say, he knew what it felt like to feel like a freak. So instead of saying anything, Sam just reached for his sister and pulled her toward him. Elle relaxed in his arms as she cried against him, clutching his shirt. Sam rested his chin on top of his sister's wet head, feeling his own tears beginning to well up; but he had to stay strong for her. This was a burden she had carried for a long time now and right now what Elle needed was her big brother, not a lecture. When Elle finally pulled away, he had a wet spot on his shirt from her tears. She wiped at her cheeks with the sleeve of her shirt, but her eyes still shone with a glossy layer. Elle stood up and walked away from her brother, keeping her back to him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Elle whimpered.

"For what?" Sam questioned as he stood up and walked over to where his sister stood. He placed a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed it. Elle looked to him again. The pain in her eyes was evident. This had been weighing on her for quite some time. He knew that he should be angry at her for keeping such a big secret from him, but he wasn't. He hated seeing his little sister in pain. Elle ran her fingers through her hair before speaking again.

"For not telling you everything sooner. I'm sure that I'm probably leaving out details because it's been so long that I've been hiding this. I was just doing what I thought would keep you and Dean from doing something crazy. I was trying to keep you two safe."

"Yeah, I get that."

"You're not pissed?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm a bit of a freak myself."

"Yeah, but I'm—I'm different."

"We'll figure it out together, like we always do. You don't have to do this by yourself, Elle." Sam tried to wrap an arm around Elle to give her a side hug, but she shrugged his arm off and walked away from him. He turned to watch as she crossed to the other side of the room to stand in front of the window. She blew a puff of air out of her mouth, ruffling the stray tendrils of hair that hung in her face. She then folded her arms across her chest and watched Sam move closer toward her in the reflection in the window. "Elle."

"There's more."

"What else is there?"

"You're going to hate me. Dean's going to hate me even more."

"Why am I going to hate you more?" Dean questioned as he leaned against the doorframe. Elle nearly jumped out of her skin at the sight of him. Instead, she just floundered to find the right words to say. She couldn't say what she wanted to say with Dean here, but he spoke again. "You were saying?"

Elle could feel her heart beginning to race faster. What was she supposed to say? So she spouted the first reasonable lie that came into her head. "I—uh—we're out of pie. I just knew you'd be pissed especially since I went on about being able to make pie now."

Dean just nodded his head as Elle quickly rushed past him and headed for the bathroom. She ignored Sam's glances as she left the room. Instead, she shut the bathroom door behind her and locked it before she leaned against it and slid down it. She had been so close—so close and then Dean came in and she panicked. There was a time when she never would have hesitated to include Dean on things; but those times were no more. She couldn't possibly reveal her last words to her father with Dean in there. Hell, she was testing out everything on Sam and if Sam responded positively than maybe down the road she could tell Dean—way down the road though. Now that thought seemed rather impossible and she was going to be stuck living a life of secrets and lies. Elle could feel her chest beginning to constrict her airways. She rested her head between her knees and tried to focus on her breathing. What if Sam was in there right now telling Dean everything she had told him so far? How was Dean going to react about her revelation? How was he going to react to the fact that she told Sam first? A knock came at the door.

"Elle?" Jo's voice called from the other side of the door.

"Yeah?" Elle responded, her voice cracking as she spoke. There was a moment of silence as if Jo were expecting Elle to open the door, but she didn't.

"Supper's ready. Mama figured we'd all eat supper together. She grilled up some steaks and potatoes."

"Is that supposed to be a bribe?"

"I think it was more to bribe the boys to stay. They practically ran out of your room when I told them we had food for 'em."

Elle attempted a smile—of course her brothers would both be swayed by a home-cooked meal. She told Jo that she would meet them in a minute, an answer Jo seemed to buy. Elle listened as Jo's footsteps grew faint as she listened to them go down the stairs before she escaped back to her room and grabbed her shoulder bag. She looked over her shoulder to make sure that no one was watching her before she popped a pill into her mouth and swallowed it with just the spit she had built up in her mouth. She winced a bit as the pill went down her throat. Walking downstairs, Elle noticed that no one was there, meaning that dinner must be over at the Roadhouse.

When Elle got over to the Roadhouse, she found Sam, Dean, Ellen, Jo, and Ash seated at a table laughing about something or another. She anxiously rubbed at her neck until Ellen noticed her and waved her to come sit down. With a nod, Elle closed the distance and sat down on a chair beside Sam and across from Ellen. Sam gave her a smile which she returned with a slight smile before she looked down at the food on her plate. Ellen had grilled up some steaks and made a grill packet of potatoes and onions. Elle's stomach rumbled. She hadn't realized just how hungry she was until she picked up her fork and took a big bite of the potatoes on her plate. The atmosphere at the table was fairly enjoyable, even if Elle didn't really say much. The conversation consisted of the good ol' days.

"You know there was this one time…Elle was probably about eleven," Dean started causing Elle to look up curiously. "We were in Louisville and we were going up against this demon. Dad told Elle to grab the flask of holy water but she ended up grabbing his flask of vodka instead."

"How did he figure out her mistake?" Jo asked.

"Because she splashed him with it too," Dean laughed. "He was so friggin' pissed, it was hilarious."

"Oh my god," Elle groaned. "No. Can we not talk about me?"

"I wanna hear another one," Jo responded with a smirk on her face which caused Elle to hide her flaming face in her hands.

"Once, when we were in New Milford, Connecticut and we were out in the woods hunting," Sam began. "And Elle wore sandals, but Dad didn't like that. So after one of her hissy fits he made her wear a pair of my smelly old shoes. She must not have had the safety on because she tripped over a root or something and shot a hole clear through the left shoe. Dad said if she would've been two inches lower, she would've lost a toe."

Jo, Ellen, and Ash started laughing, but Elle just shook her head before muttering, "That one's not even funny."

"Yeah it is, because it tells ya how big-ass Sammy's feet are," Dean grinned. "And smelly."

"Guys, stop."

"One more, one more. This one happened while Sammy was still at Stanford. So, not too long ago. Elle and I were off on our own hunt in Baraboo, Wisconsin. We got our guns ready and everything, but then Dad called me about something. I told Elle to go ahead without me. So she goes in guns blazing when I realize she went into the wrong house. So I hang-up on my dad and go barreling inside to find Elle aiming her gun at an old couple watching Jeopardy. I hope to god they were wearing Depends because Elle scared the shit out of 'em."

Everyone at the table roared with laughter and Elle even tried hard not to smile. That had been an embarrassing moment to be sure. She felt so bad for the older couple when she and Dean finally left. Dean had saved her ass that night, telling them they were from a home security business and they felt it was their duty to show citizens how easily their home can be broken in to. Thankfully, the couple bought into Dean's excuse and she was pretty positive that they invested in a home security system after that.

The group continued to eat until their plates were cleared. Ellen then stood up and announced that she'd be right back with dessert. Dean asked what they were having and Ellen responded that they were having pie. Dean's eyebrows furrowed for a moment as Elle closed her eyes tightly, knowing that her lie had just been blown.

"I thought we were out of pie," Dean stated. Ellen looked at him quizzically. "That's what Elle said."

"I—I meant out of the pie that I made," Elle lied. Dean looked at Elle for a moment before nodding his head, believing what Elle had said. Elle breathed a sigh of relief as Ellen walked back to the kitchen without saying anything. Sam gave Elle a knowing look, as if he had seen through her lie, but she ignored it. Thankfully, Ellen soon came back bringing a strawberry rhubarb pie.

"I didn't even think to ask—do you boys like rhubarb?" Ellen questioned.

"Is it pie?" Dean asked. Ellen responded with a chuckle before telling him that it was in fact pie. Dean nodded his head and smirked before saying, "Then we're good. Pie is pie in my book."

Ellen dished up the pie, giving each person at the table a piece, except for Ash who wasn't too fond of rhubarb. Elle remained rather quiet and observant of those around her as they ate. Dean helped himself to a second slice of pie to which Sam responded with a shake of his head, but even he couldn't resist a second piece of pie. Elle slowly savored her pie until the boys went outside to grab their bags because they were going to be spending the night. Once the boys were gone, Ellen then suggested that Elle help her clear the table. Jo offered to help, but Ellen told Jo to stay up front in case a customer happened to show up. It was a rather slow night at the Roadhouse, but Jo understood that her mama wanted to talk to Elle…alone. Elle stacked the plates before carrying them back to the kitchen and setting them down in the sink. She turned around to get more dishes when Ellen blocked her path. Elle tried to sidestep the older woman who simply placed a hand on the younger woman's shoulder.

"Wanna explain to me why…" Ellen started.

"It's nothing," Elle interrupted.

"I hate to break it to you honey, but it must be something if you have to lie about it. I've been around long enough to know that much."

"It's none of your business, Ellen."

"As long as you're staying under my roof, it is my business."

Elle looked up at Ellen and sighed before leaning against the counter. "I was going to tell Sam everything—that you already know, but then Dean came in and I panicked—so I lied to him. That's it. Honest." Elle could easily read the looked Ellen was giving her: why don't you tell Dean. So, before Ellen could vocalize that, Elle started to speak again. "I just can't tell him. Not yet. I was going to do a trial run on Sam because we all know he's usually the more reasonable of my brothers."

"Honey, I get it. I do. But he's gonna find out eventually and it's better coming from you than someone else."

Elle's gaze dropped to the floor. She knew that—she did, but she just couldn't tell Dean. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Ellen released her gentle grip on Elle's shoulder before letting the girl pass her to get more dishes. Elle found the boys sitting at the bar as Jo grabbed each of them a beer, but she avoided her brothers and bee-lined it straight for the dishes. She worked really slowly on washing those dishes to avoid spending time with anyone. She just needed to be by herself. By the time she had finished the dishes, her hands were so pruned that Elle wondered if they would ever actually even return to normal. She then started to itch her hands, but the itch didn't seem to quite be going away. Poking her head to look through the window, she found Sam, Dean, Ellen, and Jo talking and a few customers were actually seated. Elle took this as her opportunity to sneak out the back door and head back for the house.

Once she was back in the house, Elle slunk back into her room and pulled out her bottle of Vicodin. She was going through this stuff much faster than last time. She knew it wasn't right. She knew she wasn't right; but right now, there wasn't anything she could do about it. She just wanted to fall asleep and wake up in a new world. A world where she didn't hunt shit. A world where she was normal. A world where her parents weren't dead. A world that would never be possible. But she still crawled into bed with hopes that maybe she was going to wake up from the nightmare that had become her life. Elle easily knocked back the pill, fully realizing that she had just taken one before dinner; but Dean was too pissed to notice what she was doing and the others probably just thought this was her working through her grief and were none the wiser.

When she entered her dreams, they took her back to that familiar lake scene—only, nothing happened. There was no voice booming overhead. There was only silence and the scenery surrounding. Where was the voice? Had she just been making the voice up all this time? But no. That didn't make sense. She could feel something within her that knew the voice was real, that the voice belonged to someone or something; but that almost made her seem crazier.

Elle awoke the next morning to Jo shaking her awake. Surprised to see Jo there, Elle accidentally rolled off the bed and onto the floor. The Winchester girl lay on the floor for a moment catching her breath before she slowly crawled onto her knees to look up at Jo on the other side of her bed. "What the hell was that for?"

"It's noon and we have a bus to catch," Jo responded as she sat down on Elle's bed.

"A bus? Where?" Elle slowly crawled back onto her bed before plopping her head back down on the pillow.

"Vegas for a girls getaway from this hell hole." Jo pulled the pillow out from under Elle's head. Elle groaned and sat up.

"What about my brothers?"

"They left for Philadelphia this morning. Sam came up to say goodbye but he couldn't get you to wake up. You were out cold. Sam said that you had a long trip and that you should get more sleep. He also said something about texting you later. Now, get up and get dressed. We have to be at the bus station in like an hour."

"Do I have to go?"

Jo simply raised her eyebrow before she smacked Elle with a pillow and then walked out of the room. Elle groaned as she slowly forced herself into a standing position. Vegas. What they hell was she supposed to do in Vegas? What was one supposed to do on a girls getaway? She had never had one before. She almost had a sleepover when she was younger with a friend, but Dad literally moved them away the day she was supposed to go on said sleepover. She had been to Vegas before with Dean. So, she wasn't completely naïve to what happened in Vegas, but this was going to be her first time going anywhere with someone who a) wasn't family or b) or wasn't the opposite gender. Elle picked up her cellphone and noticed that Jo was right—it was past noon. She hadn't meant to sleep so long, but she did. Elle stretched her arms before she started packing her bag. What was one supposed to bring to Vegas? She shoved her brown boots with the Vicodin hidden inside on the bottom of her duffel before stuffing some clothes on top. She was surprisingly nervous for something that probably seemed too ordinary to everyone else. It was probably because Elle wasn't sure she could do normal.

From the bottom of the stairs, Jo called for Elle to hurry up. Elle blew a puff of air before she threw her hair up in a messy bun, grabbed her duffel bag and shoulder bag, before she descended the stairs. She found Jo leaning against the banister waiting rather impatiently for her. Elle rolled her eyes as she approached her friend. They then walked out to the truck together before Elle threw her things in the bed of the truck and hopped in the passenger's side door. Jo muttered that they were going to be late because they still had about a half hour drive to the bus station. Neither of the girls really talked on the trip to the bus station, but that was probably because Elle was still drowsy. Normally, she could just wake up and be ready to go, but for some reason, she was still half-asleep.

The truck finally pulled into the bus station and Jo parked it in a lot nearby before they ran toward the bus station. Jo told Elle to wait while she went and bought the tickets. Elle shrugged her shoulders and sat down on one of the benches and leaned her head back, about to fall asleep when Jo finally came over and started shaking her that they had to get on the bus immediately. Still drowsy, Elle followed behind Jo as she navigated them through the small crowd of people before they hopped on a bus. Elle didn't even look to see that the bus wasn't headed to Vegas. No, the girls were on a bus headed to Philadelphia and Elle was none the wiser as she took a window seat toward the back of the bus. Jo sat down beside her as Elle pulled her phone out of her pocket to check her text messages, but Jo plucked the phone from her hand. The Harvelle girl claimed that they weren't going to use their cellphones during a girls weekend. That the whole point was to get away from it all and that Jo was going to hold onto Elle's phone. Jo powered the phone down before she shoved it in her bag. Elle was thoroughly confused, but she didn't question it. Instead, she just rested her head on the window and fell asleep.

When Elle finally woke up they were driving past a sign for a city called Davenport. Elle slowly stretched and looked around in confusion. Davenport? Wasn't Davenport in Iowa? She looked outside the window and noticed that the sun was behind them. They should be traveling into the sun if they were going west to Las Vegas. Instead this meant that they were traveling east. Elle then looked at Jo with a questioning look who was going through some papers.

"Where are we going?" Elle asked.

"I already told you," Jo responded.

"I'm not an idiot. We should be driving into the sun." Elle then snatched the papers that were in Jo's hands. She rifled through them for a minute before shaking her head. "This is the case in Philadelphia that I helped you piece together before I left with Sam and Dean. Speaking of those two, I thought they were going to Philly."

"They are. We're just going there too. You promised me that we could work together on something and this is perfect. We already did a lot of the work."

"Your mother is going to kill us."

"She's not going to find out. I got Ash to lay a credit card trail to Vegas for us…and that's why I took your phone. So she can't track us."

"I don't like this. I don't like lying to your mom. Especially after everything she's done for me."

"Well, you won't be lying because she can't get a hold of you and by the time she finds out we'll be back at the Roadhouse and I'll have proven myself capable of being a hunter."

"I get that. It still doesn't mean I like it and I'm not sure that Sam and Dean will like it either."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Jo snatched the papers back from Elle and began looking through them again. She had given Sam and Dean copies of her and Elle's work. Jo was persistent that she was going to get this stuff memorized so that she could be on equal footing as Elle and the boys on this job. She felt at her leg for the knife she kept stuffed in her boot. A knife that had been her father's. She sighed and then looked at Elle who was picking at the dirt underneath her nails. "What do you remember about your dad?"

"Those aren't exactly my fondest memories. He was an ass."

"You have to have one good memory of him."

"I don't want to talk about my dad. He's dead and talking about him isn't going to change that or change my memories of him."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… I remember him talking about you once. He thought he was by himself and Mama told me to go bring him some supper. He was looking at pictures or something and said that you reminded him of your mama. He noticed me then and acted like it never happened. But I heard it."

"That doesn't change anything. I—uh—I need to use the bathroom."

Elle didn't wait for Jo to respond. Instead, she just reached for her shoulder bag and slung it over her shoulder before standing up and escaping her window seat. She walked to the back of the bus where the bathroom was and escaped inside. Elle pushed the lid of the toilet down and sat down, trying to keep her emotions in check. Jo talking about her father…it just…it hurt. Why hadn't Elle ever accidentally seen one of those moments? It would've changed everything. Instead, she just ended up bitter and feeling guilty. She unzipped her bag and pulled out the bottle of Vicodin. She knocked one back and just sat there, focusing on her breathing until a knock came at the door. Some middle aged guy wanted to use the bathroom. Elle exited the bathroom without flushing the toilet or washing her hands, which made the guy give her a look of disgust, but Elle didn't care. She hadn't done anything in there.

After almost eighteen hours trapped on a bus, they finally arrived in Philadelphia. Elle was rather stiff as she got off the bus, so when Jo wasn't looking she took another Vicodin to help. Their first task was navigating Philadelphia to find the apartment building where everything had gone down. Elle couldn't help but wonder if Sam and Dean were already there, but she didn't voice her opinion. Instead, she just hoped that they had already solved this case before she and Jo even showed up so that they could go back home. As they approached the apartment building Elle looked for the Impala, but she didn't get long enough to spot it because Jo dragged her inside the building to meet the landlord whom she had called the day before from a payphone when they had taken a brief stop. Jo introduced them to the man before the guy led them upstairs to find the apartment. They climbed several levels of stairs before they came to the right floor. They walked down a dimly lit hallways and when they rounded the corner, they ran into Sam and Dean—Elle quite literally running into her oldest brother, who caught her.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" Dean growled as he set Elle back up straight on her feet.

"There you are, honey," Jo said pushing past Elle before wrapping her arm around Dean's waist. "This is my boyfriend Dean and his buddy Sam. Elle here set Dean and I up."

"I did? I—uh—mean, I did. Just look at these two. How could I not set them up? They're just so adorable it makes me sick." Elle rambled.

"Well, uh—good to meet ya, Dean. Quite the gals you've got here," the landlord respond. Dean gave a fake smile before he smacked Jo's ass, agreeing with the man. Elle then walked over to Sam's side as he tried to whisper something to her, the landlord continued, "Are you two together too?"

Sam and Elle looked to each other in horror and both disgustedly said they weren't in unison before Elle continued, "My standards are a little lower, if you know what I mean." Elle held her hand up trying to reach Sam's height before she lowered it to a shorter level. Jo and Dean forced a laugh which caused the landlord to chuckle a bit and Jo turned toward Dean and asked him he had already checked out the apartment…for rent. Dean said that they had, which confused the man who assumed that it was locked, but Dean easily covered by saying that it was already open. The landlord just shrugged it off as Jo and Dean giggled about something before Jo pulled out a wad of cash. Elle looked at Jo in surprise. She didn't realize that Jo was carrying that much money on her, but she didn't say anything as she followed Sam inside the apartment while Jo and Dean went to take care of paperwork. Elle plopped onto the sofa as Sam sat down at the table and pulled out his laptop to figure out how to crack a wi-fi password.

"You could've texted me that you were coming," Sam said looking over at his sister from his laptop.

"Jo took my phone. Besides, I thought we were going to Vegas," Elle groaned.

"You? In Vegas? That'd be a sight to see."

"I've been to Vegas before, thank you very much."

"And what did you do there?"

"I went swimming…in the hot tub, with just my feet and racked up a room service bill while Dean went to the casino."

"Exactly my point."

"Shut up."

Sam gave his sister a slight smile as he shook his head. It seemed like maybe she was finally getting back to normal. But then again, every time he thought that Elle was doing fine, something else happened to make her take two steps back. For a moment, he watched as she curled up on the sofa with one of the throw pillows. It looked like she was going to take a nap. He couldn't remember Elle being much of a napper. He knew that she did enjoy taking naps, but usually after a long ride, which she could sleep most of, she was rather chipper and restless—not napping. For a moment, he wondered if something might be off with her, but he just shrugged it off due to the stressful job they had been on before returning to the Roadhouse.

When Jo and Dean returned to the apartment, they were surprised to find Elle fast asleep on the couch. Dean pointed over at her with a confused expression on his face, but Sam just shrugged his shoulders. The oldest Winchester set a duffel bag full of weapons on the table before he dumped them out. Sam immediately grabbed a shotgun and started cleaning it as Dean reached for a handgun. Jo leaned against the table, shifting her weight, figuring out what to say to the boys were ignoring her.

"I'd flip you for the sofa, but Elle's kinda there," Jo started.

"Does your mother know you're here?" Dean questioned. "Because I'm pretty sure the last time I saw her she was dead-set against you coming here and if she puts two and two together…"

"I'm not an idiot. I got Ash to lay trail all the way to the casinos. Not to mention that I turned mine and Elle's phones off. The only way she'd find out is if you told her."

"You know, you shouldn't lie to your mom. Not to mention the fact that you shouldn't be here and you shouldn't have brought Elle."

"Well, we're both here. So untwist your boxers and deal with it. Besides, you think you'd be happy to see your little sister again—unless you're too much of an ass to care."

"I care about my sister, so stay out of something you don't know anything about."

There was an awkward moment of silence as Dean continued to clean a gun that was already more than clean enough. It was Sam who broke the silence. "So, where'd you get all that money from anyway?"

"Working at the Roadhouse," Jo responded.

"Hunters don't tip that well," Dean scoffed.

"You would know, wouldn't you?" Dean and Jo's eyes met for a moment. Jo started at Dean as his jaw tightened, but she relented first, not wanting to pick a fight before they even got to the hunting part. "They aren't good at poker, either."

Dean's phone started to ring, so he pulled it out of his jacket pocket and answered it. It was Ellen calling him. "Oh, hi, Ellen." Jo's eyes widened for a moment. She held her breath for a moment before Dean turned to look at her. He placed the receiver against his jacket before he began to bicker in mutters with Jo. Jo tried to grab his phone, but he managed to keep it away from her until Ellen's voice began calling Dean's name. He pressed the phone against his ear again. "Haven't seen them." Jo blew a puff of air from her mouth after Dean's lie. "Yeah, I'm sure. Absolutely, Ellen, if they show up here causing trouble, their asses are getting sent back UPS."

"Thank you," Jo said with a grin.

"Don't thank me just yet. I will send your ass back if you get in our way."

"That's if I let you anywhere near my ass, first."

"Honey, your ass is already mine."

Jo groaned before she walked over to the arm chair and collapsed in it. Dean chuckled as she walked away before he looked at Sam who was giving him an expression that read really? But he just ignored his little brother and moved to grab a different gun to clean. When all the guns were clean and ready for use, Dean stood up and started pacing the room to stretch his legs while Jo took the opportunity to use the table to look at blueprints for the old building. Sam examined them with her, while Elle continued to sleep on the couch. Dean moved in to flick at her nose when Jo started to talk.

"This place was built in 1924. It was originally a warehouse, converted into apartments a few months ago," Jo stated.

"Yeah? What was here before 1924?" Dean questioned as he started to pace the room again.

"That was in the packet Elle and I put together for you two. Did you even look at it?"

"That's Sammy's job and he didn't tell me."

"Nothing. There was nothing here, just an empty field. No sacred burial grounds or anything like that either."

"So the most likely scenario is that someone died bloody in the building and now they're back and raising some hell," Sam added.

"Elle and I already checked into that. In the past eighty-two years, there have been zero violent deaths."

"Unless you count the janitor who slipped on a wet floor," a sleepy voice came from the couch. "Death by mop—very violent. He'd obviously want revenge on that mop."

"Look who finally decided to join us," Dean scoffed.

"She makes a fair point," Sam chuckled before shaking his head at his little sister. "The mop had it coming."

"Yeah, you two are hilarious and not helping."

"Dean, would you sit down, please?" Jo questioned with an incredulous expression on her face as she flipped her father's knife in her hand. "Your pacing is driving me nuts."

Dean looked like he was ready to give some cheeky retort, but as Elle slowly sat up and walked over to the table, he did the same. "So have you checked the police reports? County death records?"

"And the obituaries, mortuary reports, not to mention seven other sources. I know what I'm doing. Elle's the one who taught me how to fine tune what I'm looking for. You trust her to look for this stuff, so trust me."

"The jury's still out on that one." Jo gave Dean a questioning look before Dean grabbed her wrist and set it down on the table so that she was no longer twirling the knife. "You're gonna put an eye out and I'd rather it not be mine."

"Okay! So—uh—it's gotta be something else then. Maybe it's some kind of cursed object that brought a spirit with it," Sam suggested.

"Like a mop," Elle said with a yawn. When she saw the expression Dean was giving her, she started to backtrack a bit. "Or not. Or maybe it could be a diary, a locket, or a ring." Elle let out a sigh of relief that Dean backed down. She was also grateful that he hadn't read Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince and didn't understand her Horcrux references. But when she looked over at Sam, she saw that he was having a hard time keeping a straight expression on his face. He must've read her book, because it wasn't with her things back at the Roadhouse. Looking at Sam, it reminded her of when they were younger and they would do stupid things that Dean didn't know about. He always started the stupid grin, which would then make her do it; but she couldn't control it. She tried not to look at him, but it was no use. Elle had to put her hand over her mouth to cover the smile on her face.

"What's wrong with you?" Dean asked.

"Nothing," Elle responded with her hand over her mouth. Dean rolled his eyes before he shook his head.

"Well, we've gotta scan the whole building to find this thing," Jo said bringing the conversation back to the job at hand. "Everywhere we can get to, right?"

"Right, so you and me—we'll take the top two floors. Those two knuckleheads will start in the basement and work their way up."

"We'd move faster if we split up-if we each took a floor and met in the middle."

"Oh, this isn't negotiable. I'm keeping my eye on you so Ellen doesn't have my head and Elle's on probation so she goes with Sam."

Elle's heart sunk at Dean's words. Sam tried to argue in her defense, but it was too late. The words had already come out of Dean's mouth. Elle rubbed at her face with the sleeve of her long-sleeved shirt before she stood up to walk away to the bathroom, but Sam blocked her path. He rested his big hands on her thin shoulders. She tried to hide the void in her eyes, but she was pretty sure Sam could see it. He didn't say anything to her. He just looked her in the eyes as Dean and Jo exited the apartment. When the door closed, Sam mentioned that they should head to the basement. Elle grabbed an EMF reader from the bag as Sam grabbed a gun and some extra rounds of salt, just in case.

Sam and Elle started on the ground floor, which was dimly lit. Elle held the EMF meter out in front of her, glancing over at her big brother every now and then who was manning the flashlight and had a gun in his other hand. She sighed and held out her other hand for Sam to give her the flashlight. It made more sense for her to be holding it so that Sam could be ready to shoot if necessary. Sam reluctantly placed the flashlight in her hand, but Elle practically pulled it out of his hand like she was taking something away from a baby. With the EMF meter in her left hand and the flashlight in her right, Sam followed close behind her through the hallway.

"So, we never finished that conversation the other day," Sam stated.

"What conversation?" Elle retorted, trying to play dumb even though she knew Sam wasn't going to buy it. She hoped it, but she didn't expect it.

"The one about Dad. It's okay to talk about him, you know. I was actually kinda worried it took you this long to talk about him."

"You know that everyone grieves differently. He's gone. I'm fine now. Time to move on."

"I don't believe you. You were going to say something else but Dean came in. You know that you can tell me."

The EMF meter slowly began to purr in the middle of nowhere, which confused Elle. She then looked up and shined the flashlight there to see a vent. "Not now, I need your tall person skills." Sam looked up to see what she was looking at before he grabbed the EMF meter from Elle's hand while she continued to steady the flashlight up there. The meter began to purr a little more the closer it got to the vent.

"You know what this means."

"The ducts which lead straight up through the walls. Whatever this is, it's using the ducts to move around. It could be worse; it could be the plumbing and a giant ass snake."

"Harry Potter, really, Elle?" Elle looked up at her brother with a cocked eyebrow before he chuckled and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "I suppose I should take it as a good sign…you quoting Harry Potter again."

"You do that, but we need to check the other floors to see if our theory holds any water."

The younger Winchesters went upstairs and found their vent theory to be working out so far. So, they went back to the apartment to wait for Jo and Dean to return to share their news. Sam pulled out his laptop and Elle took the opportunity to escape to the bathroom where she pulled out her bottle of Vicodin. This was getting harder. She felt like she needed more to act normally, which probably made no sense; but she popped the lid off to find that she was on her last pill from the first bottle. She was going through this far faster than she thought she was going to, but it was the only way, right?

By the time Jo and Dean returned, they seemed rather chummy which rubbed Elle the wrong way. Why was Dean okay with Jo, but not with her? Elle defensively folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes slightly. Jo excitedly mentioned that they had the same theory which soured Elle's mood even more, she didn't know why but just seeing them in sync and stealing her and Sam's theory made her angry. It just did. It was as if she was on an emotional roller coaster. From feelings of guilt and self-loathing to anger. But Elle bit her tongue…for a while. Until she couldn't hold it in anymore and she just responded with something hurtful in bitter sarcasm. She knew it wasn't her, but it was as if there were something else inside her controlling her. She walked away from them into the bedroom, making sure to slam the door behind her for effect.

She took some deep breaths to try to control the feelings of rage within her, but she didn't understand where they were coming from. She normally wasn't one to lose control like that. She felt terrible for what she said, but she couldn't bring herself to open the door and face them again. Instead she crawled onto the bed and cuddled up with a pillow, suddenly realizing how tired she was. When Elle woke up, she saw Jo lying beside her on the bed watching her. For the first time, Elle saw Jo looking innocent and almost scared which made Elle's heart sink, because she was pretty sure she was responsible for that.

"Are you mad at me? Did I do something?" Jo asked. "Just tell me, please. I'll try to make it better, I promise. The last thing I want to do is piss off my first real friend who knows the real me."

"You didn't really do anything wrong," Elle sighed.

"You seemed pretty pissed off to me."

"I overreacted. I don't know why I did it. I just did."

"My guess is that it has something to do with Dean. He's been a dick to you."

"Can we not talk about Dean? I just—I can't."

"How 'bout pizza then? There's some pizza in the kitchen. Sam and I were guarding it for you. I'll go grab it."

Before Elle could say anything else, Jo was already out the door. Elle sat on the bed listening as Jo reheated the pizza in the microwave before coming back to the bedroom with it on a paper plate and a can of Coke in her hands. She kicked the door closed behind her with her foot before she set the food and soda down in front of Elle. As Elle ate her Hawaiian pizza, Jo quickly changed into a tank top and athletic shorts for bed before crawling back on the bed beside Elle. Jo sat there watching Elle eat, which made Elle cock her eyebrow at her closest friend before she reached for the TV remote on the bedside table and tossed it to Jo. Jo turned the TV on and started flicking through the channels. She stopped momentarily on Mulan, but she moved to change the channel when Elle swatted the remote from Jo's hands.

"I'll have the spirit come get you if you change the channel," Elle said with her mouth full of pizza.

"Nice try, but we already put salt in front of all the vents, doors, and windows," Jo said with a smirk. "But Mulan it is."

When Elle was finished eating her slices of pizza, she leaned back against the pillow which she had propped against the headboard beside Jo. Jo way laying on the bed with her arms folded across her chest watching the movie.

"Hey, Jo," Elle whispered which caused Jo to turn and look at Elle before she continued, "Why do you want this life so bad?"

"Because I don't fit into that other so-called normal world. Mama made me go to college, but it just wasn't working. I was a freak to them. Here I actually feel like I'm doing something with my life. Something my dad would be proud of."

"It's just funny, you seem to be trying so hard to get in and I want to get out."

"You don't seem to be trying too hard. In fact, this is the third case you've been on since we met."

"Just because I'm doing this doesn't mean that I don't want out…that I don't want things outside of this life. This life is like an addiction. You just can't get escape its grip on your life."

"Makes it sound like you're on drugs or something." Elle's expression mirrored that of a deer-in-the-headlights when Jo chuckled. "I'm just kidding. I think I'd know if my best friend were on drugs."

Elle didn't miss Jo's use of the words best friend, but she chose not to comment on them because she wanted to get off this topic of conversation because there was a sense of guilt building in her stomach. Instead she shifted her weight onto her back to continued watching the movie. She barely made it fifteen minutes before she fell back asleep. Jo shook her head and turned the TV off before she pulled the blankets up over them both and went to sleep as well.

Early the next morning, Elle awoke and ran to the bathroom to vomit in the toilet. She hurled several times before she rested her head on the toilet seat. Definitely not the most sanitary thing to do, but it felt cool against her burning cheeks. She decided that she must have had some acid reflux because she ate pizze late last night, but that wasn't the real culprit of her upset stomach. Eventually, she left the porcelain throne and walked into the living room to find Sam sleeping on the floor and Dean sleeping on the couch. As she walked past him, Sam rolled over which scared Elle and caused her to scream. Sam immediately sat up with his eyes wide and a few moments later, Jo ran out of the bedroom.

"Did something happen?" Jo asked.

"Sam just scared the crap out of me, sorry," Elle apologized.

"He is rather terrifying to look at first thing in the morning."

"Thanks, guys," Sam muttered as he rubbed at his eyes before looking over to Dean. "He would sleep right through it all."

"Well, now that I'm awake, I could go for some coffee." Jo yawned before she stretched her arms above her head showing her stomach. She then dropped her arms before speaking again. "I vote the person who woke us up has to get it."

"Hey! That's not fair! Sam's the one who scared me," Elle argued.

"So then he goes too. When I get out of the shower you two better be back with something strong."

Jo flipped her hair and walked back into the bedroom and into the attached bathroom. Sam went into the other bathroom while Elle walked into the bedroom and pulled out a new bottle of Vicodin and downed one of the pills before shoving the bottle back in her boot. She quickly pulled her hair up in a messy bun before digging through her duffel bag for a long-sleeved shirt when she realized that she only packed t-shirts. The only long sleeved shirt she had was a smelly dirty one she had been wearing since they left the Roadhouse. With a sigh, Elle pulled on one of her t-shirts before walking into the living room. She opened Sam's duffel bag and pulled out the first plaid shirt she found and put it on. It was huge on her, but it did the job of covering up her scars. When Sam came out of the bathroom, he was brushing his teeth.

"Is that my shirt?" Sam questioned with toothpaste foaming in his mouth.

"So what if it is?" Elle retorted.

"Nothing, I guess. I'm just used to it being Dean stealing my clothes, not you."

"Let's just say you blame Dean more than you should for stealing your clothes."

Sam shook his head as he walked back to the bathroom to spit the toothpaste out of his mouth. Elle stood and waited for Sam at the door for what seemed like forever. How long did he really need to get ready? She heard the Jo's shower shut off, meaning that they didn't have long to go out and get the coffee and be back in time. Elle called her brother's name before he walked out of the bathroom carrying his laptop. That was a curious place to take a laptop.

"Do I even want to know?" Elle questioned with a look of disgust on her face.

"It's not what it looks like, I swear," Sam commented.

"Sure it isn't."

"Let's just go." Sam opened the door and walked out into the hallway. Elle had to brace herself against the doorway for a moment because she felt dizzy, but then she followed behind her brother as he headed toward the stairs. As they entered the stairwell, Elle couldn't help but bring up their conversation.

"Ok, I want to know. What were you doing in there…with your laptop?"

"I just brought it in there to watch a video."

"What kind of video?"

"One of my old college friends sent me a music video to watch. That's all. You must be confusing me with your other brother—Dean."

Sam ruffled his little sister's messy bun before he opened the door to the ground floor. They walked down the hallway, but all the other residents seemed to be poking their heads out of their doors. Elle looked to Sam in confusion, who returned the expression; but when they got to the door things made a little more sense. They were surrounded by cop cars outside and an officer stood watch at the door.

"Excuse me, officer," Sam started. "What's going on?"

"We're dealing with a missing person. A young lady is missing and if you'll excuse me, I'm needed upstairs," the officer responded before pushing past Sam and Elle and headed toward the stairs.

"This doesn't sound good," Elle responded.

"If it's what we think it is…it's escalated. We need to get to the bottom of this before it takes anyone else," Sam said.

Elle agreed with her brother and they headed back upstairs, but it took them awhile to get back up because by that point, people had left their apartments and were beginning to clog up the traffic in the stairwell. It took them almost another ten minutes to get back to the apartment and when they opened the door, the first thing Dean did was ask where the coffee was.

It was Sam who responded, "There are cops outside. Another girl disappeared."

"That still doesn't tell me where my coffee is," Dean stated.

"We kinda thought it would be more important to tell ya'll what's going on than getting coffee."

"But we don't know what's going on. We just know someone is missing. Who was it? Where did it happen?"

"Well, if your coffee is so damn important then why don't you go figure it out while we make your Starbucks run?" Elle cut in rather rudely.

"Maybe I will." Dean stood up and walked out the door. Elle felt a little bad about getting short with Dean, but it was becoming obvious that he was more ornery around her. It's like he wasn't even trying to hide it anymore.

When Dean returned, he found a cup of coffee that Sam waiting for him. Sam had run to the closest coffee shop and had grabbed three coffees and one hot chocolate. Dean found Sam and Jo looking over notes and blueprints on the kitchen table as he took a sip of his cooled coffee. They were going everything with a fine tooth comb while Elle was busy researching something on Sam's laptop. He made a disgusted face at the temperature of his coffee before he stuck it in the microwave.

"And?" Sam asked looking up from the papers as Dean punched the numbers into the microwave.

"Teresa Ellis, Apartment 2F," Dean responded as he leaned against the counter. "The boyfriend reported her missing around dawn."

"And her apartment?" Jo questioned.

"Cracks all over the plasters, walls, and ceiling; there was ectoplasm, too."

"Well, between that and the tuft of hair, I'd say this sucker is coming from inside the walls," Sam added.

"Well that's just great; but now who is it? The building's history is totally clean."

"Almost," Elle retorted not even looking up from Sam's computer.

"Death by mop doesn't count."

"That's not what Elle meant," Jo interrupted. "While you were gone, we found this." Jo handed Dean an old photograph. "We might be looking the wrong place."

"What do you mean? I don't see anything."

"This building was built on that empty field. I almost missed this until Elle pointed it out; take a look at the building next door. Look at the windows."

"Bars. You mean a prison used to be next door?"

"Looks like it. Elle's hacking the county's database for more information. Got anything yet?"

"Uh—gimme a second here. Uh—ah-ha! Got it. Looks like it was Moyamensing Prison," Elle stated before she rubbed her eyes and blinked several times to get things to come back into focus. "It was built in 1835 and torn down in 1963. But get this—they used to hang people in the empty field next door. Which is right where our building is standing."

"Well, then, we need to get a list of all the people executed there," Sam said.

"That's going to be a little more complicated. I don't think I can get them all on my own. I'm not a miracle worker. I need Ash's help."

"Let me call him," Jo sighed. "I'll remind him what happens if he squeals any of this to Mama."

Elle and the boys listened as Jo made her request of Ash before she threatened to do something to him with pliers if he told Ellen what was going on. Rather violent, but it seemed to get the point across because an hour later they were scrolling through a list of one hundred fifty-seven names. The screen seemed rather blurry to Elle as she scrolled through the names. She rubbed at her eyes before Sam pulled the laptop away from his sister and toward himself. Dean commented that they had to narrow down the list, otherwise they had a lot of dead bodies to dig up. Sam scrolled through the names until he suddenly came to a stop.

"Hold up. Herman Webster Mudgett?"

"What about him?" Elle questioned.

"Wasn't that H.H. Holmes' real name?"

"You've got to be kidding me," Dean said wide-eyed before he spun he laptop to face him he clicked a couple times before he shook his head in disbelief. "Yep. Holmes was executed at Moyamensing, May 7, 1896."

"Huh—H.H. Holmes himself. Come on, I mean, what are the odds?"

"And who is this guy?" Jo questioned as Elle took the computer back from Dean.

"The term multi-murderer was coined to describe Holmes. He was America's first serial killer before anybody knew what a serial killer was," Dean explained.

"He only confessed to twenty-seven murders, but some put the death toll over a hundred," Sam added.

"And his victim flavor of choice? Pretty petite blondes. He, uh—he used chloroform to kill 'em. Which…is what I smelled last night in the hallway. Makes sense now."

"It looks like when they searched his place cops found human remains, bone fragments, and long locks of blonde hair," Elle said spinning the computer toward everyone.

"You sure know how to pick 'em," Dean said shaking his head at Jo.

"Well, I picked you to help me. So what does that say?" Jo retorted.

"That you have poor taste," Elle muttered. Sam elbowed his sister, but she responded by turning the computer toward her once again.

"So now we just have to find the bones, salt 'em, and burn 'em, right?"

"It's not that easy," Sam started. "His body is buried in town, but it's encased in a couple tons of concrete."

"What? Why?"

"The story goes that he didn't want anybody mutilating his corpse. 'Cause you know—that's what he used to do," Dean commented.

"Uh—guys, I think we have a bigger problem," Elle said as she squinted her eyes at the computer before she shook her head

"That you need glasses?"

"Funny, but no. I just have a headache. What I'm trying to say is that Holmes apparently built an apartment building in Chicago that he called 'The Murder Castle.' Creepy? I know. But it gets worse. The whole place was a death factory. He had trap doors, acid vats, quick line pits, and other crap that makes me want to puke. But the point is that he built these secret chambers inside the walls and he'd lock his victims in them, keeping them alive for days. Some he'd suffocate and others he'd let starve to death. It's like he got a kick out it or something."

"So Teresa could still be alive? She could be inside these walls?" Jo questioned to which Elle responded by nodding her head.

"We need sledgehammers, crowbars, anything to smash these walls anywhere thick enough to hide a girl," Dean stated.

Again, they split up into two groups to cover the building. Elle and Sam were once again paired together while Dean and Jo worked together in a group. Sam and Elle started on the first floor while Jo and Dean combed the third floor for something to lead them in the right direction. As Elle walked down the hallway, she started knocking on the walls to see if she could find a spot that sounded hollow, but the more she walked down the seemingly endless hallway, the more her head started to hurt. Sam, who was carrying a sledgehammer, stopped near her and gave her a look of concern as she leaned her head against the wall.

"I'm fine," Elle mumbled.

"Did you take anything for that headache?" Sam questioned, but Elle just shook her head that she hadn't before she closed her eyes. "I have some aspirin in my duffel bag, why don't you go take some and meet me on the second floor?"

Elle slowly walked upstairs to their apartment, but she didn't go for Sam's duffel bag. Instead, she went for her own where she was keeping her pain medication. This was getting out of control and she knew it, but the thought of excruciating pain wasn't an option. The thought of going back into that dark place and that guilt laden mindset was unthinkable. No, this was helping her…or at least that was what she told herself as she roughly swallowed a pill. Elle sat there on the floor for a few minutes with her eyes closed. She could have stayed there, but she knew Sam was expecting her. Why she let someone else's expectations of her control her, she didn't know; but that was how she had lived her life for so long now that there was no getting out of that rut. She pushed herself to a standing position and then walked out of the apartment before heading to the back staircase so that Sam would think she had been busy checking the floor already; but she was surprised to find Dean on his cellphone standing against a wall.

"Where's Jo?" Elle asked but Dean put his finger up to his lips to tell her to be quiet. He must've been listening to what Jo was saying. Elle took the phone from Dean who appeared slightly angered by the fact, but she put it on speakerphone so that she could hear what was going on too. "Jo, what'd you see?"

"Elle is that you?" Jo asked. "Why aren't you with Sam?"

"I went to take an aspirin for my headache and ran into Dean talking to you."

"Where are you?" Dean questioned gruffly.

"On the north wall," Jo's voice came from the phone. "And I think I found some kind of air duct. I'm gonna head on down." Dean argued with her to stop and stay where she was, but Jo didn't listen to him. "Look, we've gotta find this girl, don't we? I'm okay, I swear."

"Well, we're heading to you."

No more than a few seconds after Dean had spoken those words did Jo's screams start coming out of the phone. Both Elle and Dean called Jo's name when Dean took off in a sprint for the next floor because her screams seemed to be heading downward. Dean continued to call Jo's name as Elle took the phone off speaker and pressed it up to her ear to hear she could hear them getting any closer over the phone. Elle held out her hand for Dean to stop who then began smashing his sledgehammer into the wall. After a couple of swings, he stuck his head through the hole to find Jo's cellphone lying on the wooden floor, black goo on the walls, and no Jo.

"Damnit!" Dean swore. "She's gone."

"Let me go after her," Elle said. "I'm smaller than Jo. I'll fit too."

"You really think I'm going to lose another person on my watch?"

"Don't pretend you've given a damn about me since Dad died," Elle hissed before she covered her hand over her mouth. She knocked her head against the wall. "I shouldn't have said that. I—I didn't mean it."

"No, I think you did. If you got something to say, say it."

"No."

"I want to hear it."

"But I don't want to say it. Because I don't want to say something I'll regret. I can't live with that again."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Elle's stood there breathing hard, her jaw set, and her blue eyes frigid. She badly wanted to pummel Dean to the ground with the words she had building up; but she wouldn't do it. She couldn't do it. She couldn't do that again…not after what she had said to her father. Dean stood there motioning with his hand for her to continue, but she didn't; which angered him even more. They had always been able to work things out before, but if Elle wouldn't talk to him there was no way they could talk through things. To be honest, he wasn't sure that was what he even wanted. Hell, it was wrong, but part of him wished that the monster had taken Elle instead of Jo. Dean swung once more at the wall with the sledgehammer in anger as Sam came running down the hallway. He saw Dean standing there breathing heavily and Elle slowly backing away with her eyes wide.

"Whoa," Sam greeted them. "What the hell is going on here?"

"He's got Jo," Dean growled.

"What? How'd that happen?"

"I wasn't with her. I let her go alone. Damnit!"

"Hey, hey, look, we'll find her, all right?"

Dean didn't believe Sam's words. He dropped his sledgehammer on the ground, breaking lose the flooring before he walked away toward the stairs. Sam and Elle were left alone in the hallway. Elle leaned against the wall before she slid down it and hid her face with her hands. How could this have happened? How could Jo be gone? She couldn't live with herself if something happened to Jo. Granted, it was Jo's fault to begin with for not actually taking them to Vegas, but Elle would feel guilty for not trying harder to get them out of this place. Elle knocked her head backwards against the wall several times, before Sam interceded and pulled her to her feet.

"Hurting yourself isn't going to help us get Jo back. Let's go back and see if we missed anything else while we let Dean cool off."

Elle looked up at her brother with tears in her eyes. God, she hated looking weak; but that was what she had become: weak and pathetic. Even more so than usual. Sam wrapped his arm around her shoulder and drew her closer to him before placing a gentle kiss on the top of head before telling her that it would be ok. They then walked back to the apartment and began going through the documents, maps, prison records yet again. But Elle came up with nothing new. Dean came back with a solemn expression on his face.

"Nothing. I got nothing. I followed that damn passage down, but it doesn't go down to the basement. It's like it stops or something," Dean grumbled.

"Look, we just need to think about this. Maybe we got a piece of the puzzle wrong," Sam suggested.

"Well, we'd better think fast or Jo's gonna be ghost chow."

Dean swore aloud as his phone started to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw that it was Ellen calling him. Reluctantly, he answered it but Ellen's voice resounded perfectly across the phone so that even Sam and Elle could hear how pissed she was. From the sound of it, Ash had given them up and Ellen demanded to talk to Jo. Elle ran her fingers through her hair-talking about terrible timing. She cringed as Dean made a mention of feminine business before he held the phone out to Elle. It was obvious that Dean wanted her to pretend to be Jo. Elle took the phone and exhaled slowly. She knew what Dean wanted from her...but she also knew that she couldn't just lie to Ellen like that after everything she had done.

"Hello?" Elle asked in her normal voice. She tried to avoid looking at Dean who appeared somewhat angry as he slammed his fist against the table.

"Elle, where's Jo?" Ellen asked.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"The spirit we're hunting got her." The horror in Ellen's voice was evident as Dean stole the phone back from his little sister.

"She'll be okay, I promise," Dean urged. "What's that supposed to mean? I won't let anything else happen to her, Ellen. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

When Dean hung up the phone, he tossed it across the room but it landed softly on the couch before he walked over and kicked a chair over, swearing. Sam tried to offer his brother some comfort, but Dean just wanted answers. Sam pulled the blueprints of Holmes' Murder Castle up on his computer before turning it toward Dean.

"You see the layout? There's all those torture chambers inside the walls, right? But there's one we haven't considered yet. The one in the basement."

"This building doesn't have one," Elle groaned before smacking her head against the table.

"That's right, but I just noticed this in the prints. Beneath the foundation it looks like there's part of an old sewer system that hasn't been used for…"

"Let's go," Dean grumbled as he walked over to the couch, grabbed his phone, and headed for the door.

Sam and Elle looked to each other for a moment before they followed behind him. Apparently, this old sewer system had metal trap doors every so often and all they had to do was find one and hope that the tunnel hadn't collapsed. The younger Winchesters found Dean digging through the trunk of the Impala for the metal detector. He handed the object to Sam before he grabbed a shovel and then handed Elle a couple canisters of salt.

"Really? I get to man the salt?" Elle commented.

"Just shut up and do the job or you can sit on your ass upstairs. Take your pick," Dean stated. Elle grabbed the salt from her brother, spilling a bit in the trunk just to piss him off, before he slammed it shut.

The Winchester siblings walked down the Philadelphia streets hoping to find what they were looking for. They were a fair distance away from the building when the metal detector started whirring like crazy in the middle of an open field. Dean pushed Sam aside before he started digging a hole with the shovel. He dug furiously until the shovel hit something metallic. He then dropped the shovel and began digging with his hands. Elle and Sam joined in the excavating until the trap door was fully revealed. Dean pulled the trap door open before he pulled a shotgun out of his duffel bag and handed it to Sam. He then handed a flashlight to Elle before taking a shotgun for himself.

The three of them jumped through the trap door to find that the tunnel wasn't very high and was somewhat narrow. Without asking, Dean snagged the flashlight back from Elle before he got down on his elbows and knees and started crawling through the sewer. Elle followed behind Dean, holding tight the canisters of salt, while Sam followed behind her. Elle wasn't sure how long they crawled through the tunnel, but she was beginning to grow cold from the water that soaked her clothes. The smell made the situation worse; but they trudged on. There finally seemed to be a light at the end of the so called tunnel, but not only that, they could hear Jo's voice and then her muffled screams. This made Dean crawl faster until they came to metal grate which Dean hit with the butt of his gun until it gave way. Dean then stood up and fired a shot at Homes' chest, causing him to fly backwards and out of sight. As Elle crawled out into the open space, she only saw Dean who called out Jo's name.

"I'm here!" Jo yelled from a prison built inside the wall.

Dean found an iron bar leaning against the wall which he used to start to pry open her compartment. By that point, Sam was now in the opening and he started checking the other compartments for other victims. One of the compartments contained gruesome body parts. The sight made Sam gag for a moment before he continued on, looking in the other ones. He finally found Teresa who was so scared she was silently shaking with tears spilling from her eyes. Sam told her that he was going to get her out as Dean handed him the bar after he opened Jo's compartment. Jo crawled out and immediately hugged Dean tightly.

"You all right?" Dean asked as he was being squeezed by Jo.

"Been better, I guess," Jo said as she slowly released Dean and backed away. "Let's just get the hell out of here before he comes back."

"I don't think you're leaving here just yet."

"What do you mean I'm not leaving? I've been trapped with this creep. I'm getting out."

"Remember when we were talking earlier and I told you that you being bait was a bad plan? Now it's kinda the only one we got."

"No it's not," Elle said from the shadows. "I can do it."

"You hate being bait," Sam said as he helped pull Teresa out of her compartment.

"Not to mention that he likes blondes. You're not blonde," Dean added.

"No, but I'm pretty sure he's not going to care about that until after he's back in here. By that point you'll have enough time to drop the ring of salt around the circumference of this place."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I honestly don't know; but it seems better than putting Jo at risk again."

Surprisingly, Dean agreed with her. Jo tried to argue that she could do the job, but Dean just gently pushed her toward the tunnel where Sam was already leading Teresa back to safety. Jo said that she at least wanted to help set the trap up, which Dean allowed her to do before she crawled into the tunnel. Elle sat down in the middle of the open space cross-legged as Dean looked to her. He nodded his head before he crawled into the tunnel.

"Elle, how are you doing?" Jo's voice echoed.

"I really could use some popcorn for all this salt," Elle responded trying to sound more upbeat than she felt.

To be honest, she was truly terrified and her limbs ached. She knew that she should have taken a pill before she left, but there wasn't time with Sam and Dean keeping a strict watch on her. Elle closed her eyes tightly and tried to focus, but she couldn't even do that. She started to shake. Why did she do this? She was regretting the rash decision she had made; but there was no going back now. Suddenly, Holmes appeared in front of her. She trembled for a quick second before her first line of defense kicked in.

"Hi, I'm Elle. What's your name?" Holmes didn't respond. "That's a rather rude way to treat your guests, you know. Is it because I'm not your type? I suppose we could change that. Would you be a little more talkative then?"

By this point Elle had slowly backed herself toward the tunnel in a crabwalk. Just as she turned around and dove into the tunnel, Sam and Dean shot at something on the walls, causing several bags of salt to spill into a perfectly round circle around Holmes, trapping him. Sam pulled Elle into his arms and she clung to his shirt, burying her face in it. Holmes screamed in terror, but it was Jo who got the last word.

"Scream all you want, you dick! There's no way you're stepping over that salt! You're not hurting one ever again!"

After the group had crawled out of the old sewer and had showered, they walked back to the entrance to the sewers. Elle had snuck a Vicodin when Jo was showering and was feeling better...somewhat. Sam and Jo stood beside the entrance while Elle sat beside it. Jo knelt down beside her.

"Why'd you really do it? The truth," Jo whispered.

"Because I couldn't do that to your mom after everything she's done for me. You're all she has left," Elle responded.

"And what about you? Do you think you're worthless?"

"To Dean."

"And you were trying to redeem yourself in his eyes. God that's screwed up, you know that, right?"

"Screwed-up people do screwed up things."

Jo looked at Elle sympathetically before she wrapped her arms around the Winchester girl and rested her head on Elle's shoulder. Sam then got down on his haunches beside the girls, still towering over them.

"So, was this job as glamorous as you thought it would be?" Sam asked Jo.

"Well, except for the pee-you-pants terror, yeah. Sure. I'd do it all over again because that Teresa girl's gonna live a life because of us. It's worth it, isn't it?" Jo responded.

"Yeah, most of the time it is."

"Saving people. Hunting things. The family business," Elle said looking down into the hole before looking to Jo. "So, I guess that makes us family."

Jo smiled before continuing, "Hey, what if somebody finds that sewer done there or a storm washes the salt away?"

Sam smirked before he stood up and pointed to a cement truck coming their direction. Elle and Jo looked to each other in confusion before they stood up too. They moved out of the way as Dean backed the cement truck up until Sam waved for him to stop. Dean jumped out of the cab with a giant grin on his face. Sam and Dean set up the cement mixer so that it poured directly into the sewer's entrance. Jo stood there shaking her head.

"You ripped off a cement truck?" Jo scoffed.

"I'll give it back," Dean commented.

"Eventually," Elle finished for Dean to which he nodded his head in agreement.

The group of four stood there watching the cement pour into the hole before Dean commented, "Well, that oughta keep him down there 'til hell freezes over."

"Hopefully longer."

Dean looked over at Elle and smiled at her before he motioned for her to follow him. Elle looked at him hesitantly before he mouthed the world please. She sighed and followed him a little ways away from Jo and Sam who were standing there still watching the cement.

"Look, I know I've been a dick to you…" Dean started before he stopped. "So, I should probably apologize for that. What you did down there was brave."

"Thanks," Elle muttered.

"I-uh…" But Dean never got to finish because suddenly, Ellen Harvelle came stomping toward them with the rage of a mad woman. Jo tried to use Sam as a barrier between them, but Ellen stood there seething mad at her daughter.

Within an hour they were all packed-up and on the road headed back toward Nebraska. Jo, Elle, and Sam were squished together in the backseat, which was quite uncomfortable. For the first leg of the trip, Elle got stuck in the middle because she was the smallest. There was an awkward silence between the five of them. No one wanted to speak, especially not Jo. Ellen sat in the front passenger's side with a pissed-off expression on her face. Dean tried to ease the tension by making a joke about Ellen being serious about flying out; but it fell flat. So, he turned on the radio, which Ellen immediately flicked off. Dean looked to the backseat and mouthed the word help, but there was nothing they could do. Instead, Elle leaned her head against Sam's shoulder and fell asleep knowing that changes were on the horizon.


	29. Long Time Traveller

The Impala turned down the old, dusty gravel road that led to Harvelle's Road House. Elle still sat between Jo and Sam in an uncomfortable silence that loomed over them. No one had really exchanged any words, unless a bathroom break was necessary…and Elle really could use one right about now, not to mention that she could go for a Vicodin to stop that gnawing pain she insisted was there. Thankfully, she had slept on her brother for most of the ride, but now she was ready to get out of that damn car. When Dean finally pulled the car into park, Elle practically crawled over Sam and grabbed the door handle.

"Hey!" Sam hissed.

"Move Sammy, I gotta pee. I've been holding it for the last hour because someone wouldn't stop," Elle grunted.

"You're the one with all the empty water bottles." Sam pointed to the dozen or so empty water bottles that lay strewn on the floor of the car. Elle rolled her eyes before she reached down and grabbed a water bottle from the floor and shoved it in Sam's face before she finished her escape. She couldn't remember the last time she had to go this bad. Once her feet hit the gravel, she sprinted through the Roadhouse to find Ash asleep on the pool table, but she ignored it and ran to the backdoor before running to the house. She probably could have used the bathroom in the Roadhouse, but she needed some space from the tension of the car.

Elle went up the stairs and to her go-to place these days: the bathroom. How sad and pathetic was it that the place she probably felt safest was a bathroom? She knew she had fallen far from her former self; but there really wasn't anything in her power that she could do to change that. She was simply stuck on this path with nowhere else to go but to continue down the road she had chosen. She knew it was her fault that she was where she was. Locking the door behind her, Elle leaned up against the vanity to face the person staring back at her in the mirror. She ran her fingers through her greasy hair; but it wasn't the dirt, sweat, or tiredness she noticed. What she noticed, what she always noticed, were the scars covering her body. She turned the water on and tried to wipe them away despite knowing that they would never go away. Scars were permanent. The scars were a painful reminder of the past—of her father, of that creepy yellow-eyed demon. But they also made her feel undesirable. That no one would ever want to touch her because she was hideous to look at. She didn't miss the glances toward her from an unsuspecting stranger. She didn't miss the looks of pity that she got. She didn't miss the whispers of the people who looked at her—the pointing. Elle punched her hand into the mirror causing it to shatter. Her knuckles were bleeding; but Elle just stood there staring at the broken mess. The mess she had caused and the mess she had become. People were wrong. Things didn't get better. They only seemed to get worse.

Reaching in her shoulder bag, Elle pulled out the bottle of Vicodin and popped a pill. The blood from her hand smeared across the label on the bottle. Elle grimaced as she tried to wipe the blood off, but she only made it smear more. She then rinsed the pill bottle under a stream of water, this time causing the label to peel off. She watched as the paper began to slowly dissolve and flow down the drain before setting the bottle on the mirror mess on the counter. She crunched a shard of mirror beneath the bottle before she rubbed at her face, causing blood to streak across her face. Damnit. She was making such a mess of things. Literally. It also didn't help matters that she herself was a mess. Why couldn't she just snap out of it? Why couldn't things just go back to normal? Then again, what was normal anymore?

It was then that the flood gates opened once again. Shit. Why? Why couldn't she just control her freaking emotions like a normal person? Why was she reduced to something this pathetic and weak? Elle lay her hands on the counter, swiping them across the vanity causing the mirror shards to fly over the room. For several minutes, she just sat there on the floor, crying as she stared at the mess she had made of the bathroom which didn't belong to her. A bathroom that if Sam or Dean saw, could lead them to figure out how fast she was unraveling without their guidance. They both had enough to deal with without her kind of crazy, not to mention that she didn't know if she wanted them to know that she had fallen so far. She didn't want them to see her like this because she didn't really want them swooping in to save the day. Elle got on her hands and knees, the mirror shards crunching beneath her weight before she reached for the bathroom garbage can under the sink and began cleaning up a bit. She dropped handfuls of shards into the can, wondering what kind of person she had become to not want her brothers to be there for her. Besides, it wasn't like Dean would really even want to be there for her with the stick he had shoved up his ass.

When she was done picking up the mirror bits and pieces, she took a rag to wipe up the blood smears on the floor before she stood up, wrapped her bloodied knuckles, and then took a long look at the broken mirror. In the shattered pieces that still hung to the wall, Elle could still see the hideousness looking back at her in the mirror. She never used to be like this—so concerned with her appearance. Maybe it had been the fact that she had grown-up with only men that she hadn't really given a damn before; but this—this person staring at her. She couldn't stand her. She turned away, not wanting to look at herself anymore, taking a mental note that she was going to owe Ellen a new mirror. That or she was going to have to go buy one before Ellen or Jo noticed that it was broken. Realizing that she was far better 'fessing up to—or at least coming up with a cover for her transgression, Elle walked to her room to quickly change her smelly clothes that she had worn for days before heading back for the Roadhouse. She slowly walked the dirt path, expecting to hear laughter coming from the Roadhouse, but all she heard was silence as she saw Ash sitting on a bucket at the back door. Ash looked up at her and started shaking his head.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you," Ash stated. "Shit started flying." Elle ignored Ash's warning and opened the backdoor to the kitchen. It really couldn't be that bad; but when she walked into the front of the building, she realized that maybe it was as bad as Ash had claimed. She found Ellen angrily scrubbing the bar counter with a rag, muttering to herself. Not wanting to poke an angry bear, so to speak, Elle walked to the window to see what her brothers were up to.

"They're gone," Ellen muttered from the bar. "They're all gone." True to Ellen's words, both the Impala and Jo's truck were missing from the front dirt lot.

"Where are they?" Elle asked turning around, her voice quivering a bit.

"Hell if I know."

"What—what happened?"

"They goddamn used my daughter! That's what the hell happened! My daughter, the only thing I have left in this world, because John's lazy ass couldn't watch my William. I'll be damned if I'm gonna let history repeat itself between a Winchester and my daughter."

"I'm a Winchester." There was a long, awkward silence between the two women.

"Honey, you're different. You're…"

"No, I'm not. And I don't get it. You've been pushing me back toward the life, but yet Jo you try to keep as far away as possible. Do I really mean that little to you? I thought you were someone I could trust. Damnit, Ellen, you've been like a mother to me, something I've never known. I'm sorry Jo got taken, but do you realize how many times that's happened to me? I can't even count on my fingers how many times that's happened to me! Does my life not matter? Because if that's true, then what the hell have you been telling me for months now? I mean, I get that I'm not your flesh and blood, believe me, I do; but do you know how many times I've gone to bed these past few months wishing that I was? Wishing that by some miracle I'd wake up and not be a Winchester. I just…"

Elle began to feel as if the whole room was spinning. She tried to balance herself against the table, but she missed it and fell in a heap to the floor, knocking her head on a chair and blacking out. Ellen quickly rushed over to the young woman who lay on the floor. "Damnit. Sweetie, wake up." Elle just lay there. It looked as if she were barely breathing. Ellen felt for a pulse, but the girl's heart seemed to be beating rather slowly. "Elle Winchester don't you dare do this to me." Ellen ran back over to the bar and filled a glass with cool water before she ran back over to Elle and splashed the water in her face. Elle gasped as she awoke. She tried to sit up, but Ellen's hand pushed her back down. "What the hell you trying to do? Trying to give me a heart attack?" Elle didn't say anything, she just stared up at Ellen. "Stay put. I'm gonna get Ash to carry you to the truck. You need to see a doctor."

"I'm fine," Elle head hurt, but she grunted trying to sit up again, but once again, Ellen's hand pushed her down again. "I don't need to go in. I was just dizzy, that's all. We didn't really get many chances to eat on the long ride back."

"Just dizzy?" Ellen's tone wasn't a believing one, but Elle simply nodded her head. "Just like your daddy. Fine, be stubborn and don't go in, but you're spending the rest of the day in bed and don't argue with me on this, you're not going to win this one."

Elle groaned as she simply lay there on the floor, like a child, as she waited for Ash to come back into the front. He swooped in and easily picked her up. She hadn't been expecting it to be so easy for him to carry her back to the house. Elle looked up at Ash who simply looked straight ahead and whistled an out-of-tune rock song as he followed behind Ellen. The features of his face were somewhat blurry, so she closed her eyes tightly before opening them again. No, that was definitely worse. She hated being treated this way—like she was an invalid. Was she? Sure, probably more than she should be; but it didn't mean she liked feeling like it. Ash set her down on her bed before resting his hand on top of her head.

"Stay," Ash stated before patting her head. "Good kitty."

Elle chomped her teeth twice.

"Bad kitty."

With that, Ash left the room as Ellen was fussing about her room. Elle sighed and rested her head on her pillow, ignoring Ellen. Right now she just wanted to be left alone, but it didn't look like that was going to happen. So, she figured the only way she could escape was to go to sleep. Besides, she was rather exhausted. Then again, she was always exhausted. It never felt like her body got enough sleep, no matter how often she slept. Elle quickly fell asleep, something that didn't always come so easily. In her dreams she went back to that oh-so-familiar lake scene, but it was strange. It was eerily quiet. The stars didn't shine quite as brightly and believe it or not, the silence seemed almost deafening. Things certainly didn't seem at rest here. It felt like the calm before the storm; but nothing happened.

Elle's blue eyes flashed open and she kicked the blankets from her body. She felt like she was sweating up a storm. She looked around to find that night had fallen and the room was almost dark. Aside from the table lamp which revealed Ellen sitting in the corner on a chair she must have brought into the room. Elle propped herself up on her elbows and turned to glance at the older woman who gently put aside a crossword.

"How are you feeling, honey?" Ellen asked calmly.

"Why do you care? You were yelling at me about losing the only thing you cared about, earlier. It's not like I'm on that list."

"I suppose I deserve that. Elle, I'm sorry, I was angry and wasn't thinking straight. Besides, I'm a mother and it's what we do. We get angry at our kids, but it doesn't mean that we don't love them."

"But I'm not your kid."

"You're as good as mine, kiddo. Now let me see that hand." Elle looked at Ellen with a deer-in-the-headlights expression. "Yeah, I saw it. I saw the bathroom too." Ellen easily took note of Elle's constricted pupils, which caused the blue of her eyes to appear larger and more vibrant in the young woman's silence. Ellen walked over and reached for Elle's hand. Elle tried to tug it back, but Ellen's had a firm grip on the hand. Ellen slowly unwrapped the hand and looked at the still open wound on Elle's knuckles. "I think it will need stitches."

"It's fine." Elle pulled her hand back. "I'll be fine."

"Honey, whatever you're going through, you don't have to do it alone."

"It looks like I don't really have a choice. Everyone is gone."

"Excuse me? I did not just sit in an uncomfortable chair for hours and close my business to watch you sleep for nothing. I am here for you."

"I'm talking about my brothers. They left me. Again. It's like they don't need me anymore."

"You know that's not true, but I think you're only going to believe that when you stop feeling sorry for yourself."

"I'm entitled to my own feelings."

"I know that. Hell, I'd say they're even justified at times, but it doesn't mean they're healthy for you." Elle sighed and blew a tendril of hair out of her face. "Now, I think we need to do something about these cuts. They need stitches before they get infected."

"I don't wanna go in."

"I might be able to help with that," a voice came from the hallway. Elle looked over to the door to find Bobby Singer gruffly standing in the doorway holding onto a duffel bag. "I'm shit at bedside manner but they'll sew up just the same."

"Bobby?" Elle crawled out of her bed and ran across the room to meet Bobby in a hug. He called her by her nickname of Ellie as he embraced her in a hug. Then with a confused glance, Elle pulled back and looked between Bobby and Ellen. "What's he doing here?"

"Don't look at me," Ellen said with her hands raised. "This is the first I've seen or heard from Bobby Singer in quite some time."

"Hi, Ellen," Bobby said with a slight smile. Ellen stood up and crossed the room to shake hands with Bobby.

"Bobby, what brings you to my neck of the woods?" Ellen asked as she folded her arms across her chest. "If I'd have known you were coming I'd have locked the door. Speaking of, how'd you know where we were?"

"Mullet Man gave you up."

"Damnit, Ash. The man folds like a cheap suit." Ellen shook her head before she looked between Bobby and Elle. The younger woman held her gaze at the floor as she held her injured hand. "I'll just let you two catch up then." With that Ellen walked out of the room and headed back toward the Roadhouse leaving Bobby alone with Elle. Elle looked up at him innocently before she walked over and sat on her bed. Bobby knelt to the floor and grabbed her hand, moving it toward the light to get a better look at things.

"I swear you're always getting into all kinds of scrapes."

"Hey, have you seen Sam's cast lately? It's got to be genetic." Bobby gave her a disbelieving glance. Why was it that he could usually tell when she was lying? Elle pulled her hand back and cradled it in her other hand as Bobby asked what she had done to get that injury. Elle bit her bottom lip, unsure of what she wanted to say. Knowing she needed to say something, her first line of defense, sarcasm, approached the bench. "That mirror had it coming."

Bobby just nodded his head. It was obvious that he wasn't voicing the words in his head. Instead, all he said was, "Need some whiskey," before Bobby walked out of the room and Elle followed. As they walked into the hallway, Bobby looked into the bathroom across the hall to see a broken mirror. Elle noticed him looking at her after his glance toward the bathroom, but she kept her eyes focused straight ahead. She didn't want to worry Bobby. She was fine—or at least she had to be. She didn't want to sound like a broken record, constantly needing help and attention. No, it was her burden to bear. Hers and hers alone.

Elle and Bobby silently walked back over to the Roadhouse. Despite the time they had been apart, Elle couldn't really think of anything to say to the man who had been like a father to her. Well, anything that didn't involve her burdening him or betraying her own secrets. Elle opened the backdoor and held it open for Bobby to walk through, but he held onto the edge of the door and motioned for her to go inside. With a sigh, Elle entered the building and Bobby followed close behind her. She walked up to the bar to grab a bottle of whiskey for Bobby when she stopped in her tracks at the sight in front of her, the person seated at the bar talking to Ash. It was Tommy.

"Bought ya a little somethin'," Bobby whispered in her ear. Shivers went up her spine from Bobby's breath against her ear as her eyes locked with Tommy's. It had been months since she had seen him. Sure, she texted him or called him somewhat frequently, she had to admit that she hadn't minded the distance between them. She wasn't the same girl he met a year ago. She wasn't the same girl he had reunited with months ago. Elle awkwardly rubbed at her ear as Tommy jumped off his barstool and closed the distance between them. With a goofy grin on his face, he enveloped her in a tight hug. Elle responded by standing there almost like a penguin, with her arms at her side and not responding to his hug. She was getting better at being touched again, but sometimes memories of that night with Yellow Eyes flashed through her mind—this being one of those times. She placed her good hand against Tommy's chest before pushing away from him. He looked at her with a slightly hurt expression on his face; but she responded by raising her battered hand and immediately his expression turned to a sympathetic one. Elle grimaced on the inside. She didn't want his sympathy. Granted, she wasn't sure what she really wanted anymore, but being felt sorry for definitely wasn't what she wanted or needed.

"So, uh—how've you been?" Tommy asked as Elle walked behind the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey.

"Fine," Elle responded before she opened the bottle and took a swig without the bottle touching her mouth. She winced as she set the bottle back down on the counter. "Ugh."

"You don't seem fine."

"I was joking."

"Are—are you mad at me about something?"

"No, I'm sorry if it's coming off that way. My hand just hurts like a bitch." It was the truth because she hadn't taken a Vicodin since earlier that day and she hadn't had a chance to sneak away to take another one. But truth be told, she knew she was acting more bitchy than normal, even for having an injured hand. She just wasn't acting like her old self; but then again, she hadn't been that person in a long time. Every once in a while, the old Elle would flicker back for a moment, but for the most part, she was dead.

"And whose fault would that be?" Ellen responded as she walked over to the bar and grabbed the bottle of whiskey and a couple tumblers before walking over to the table Bobby sat at. Elle rolled her eyes as Ellen poured two tumblers full of whiskey, one for Bobby and one for herself.

Bobby took a long drink of his "hunter's helper" before looking back at Elle. "Well, come on then. Let me have a look." With a sigh, Elle walked over to the table Bobby was sitting at with Ellen before she pulled up a chair. She set her right hand down on the table before Bobby picked it up and moved her hand around to get the light to hit it the right way. "These eyes aren't what they used to be…or the whiskey's already taken some effect. Yeah, these are pretty deep, Ellie."

"Can you fix them or not?" Elle asked somewhat shortly.

"Can I fix them?" Bobby scoffed. "Of course I can fix them. It's just gonna hurt like a bitch."

"I thought I made it clear that it already does."

Bobby chuckled before he asked Ellen to get a few supplies for him to patch Elle up. During this time, Tommy walked over to the table and pulled up a fourth chair and placed it beside Elle. He smiled at her and Elle attempted to smile back at him. They made small talk about the hunt she had just gone on with Sam, Dean, and Jo until Ellen came back with her arms full. She set down the necessities on the table: a bottle of vodka, fishing line, tweezers, a needle, cotton balls, and a pill bottle. Elle's eyes immediately widened when she saw the pill bottle on the table and she visibly tensed up. Slowly, she reached her good hand out to grab the bottle. It was Vicodin. Her heart began to beat a little faster. Had Ellen found her stash?

"It might be expired, but it's left over from when I got my wisdom teeth removed a few years back," Ash stated from the pool table he was lying on in a rather provocative position. "I imagine it should still do the trick though."

Elle tried to hide the look of guilt on her face as she nodded her head and popped the pill bottle open. She quickly knocked a pill back before taking another swig of the whiskey on the table. She knew the label said not to mix with alcohol, but right now she really didn't care. Bobby then told her to set her hand on the table in front of him which she did before slowly exhaling the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. She began nervously tapping the table with her good hand, but Bobby complained that she was shaking the table and he was gonna stitch something he shouldn't. So, Tommy then took her hand in his and held it tightly, absently rubbing small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. Bobby then poured the vodka on her hand and she winced slightly at the stinging sensation running through her hand.

"All this booze is coming out of your check," Ellen chuckled, to which Elle just nodded. Bobby then took the tweezers to get a tiny shard of mirror embedded in her hand out before he cleaned the wound out with vodka once more. Elle didn't scream. Instead, she closed her eyes, grit her teeth, and dug what was left of her bitten fingernails into Tommy's hand. She could feel every time the needle weaved in and out of her skin with the fishing line pulling the skin back together. When it was finally over, Bobby told her she could open her eyes. It took a few seconds for things to move back into focus; but she saw Bobby drinking from his tumbler of whiskey.

"Thank you," Elle whispered.

"You know I'd do anything for you, Ellie," Bobby commented before taking another drink. Somewhere deep inside, she knew it to be true; but it felt too much to hope that it actually was true. Elle clenched her injured hand into a fist before she released it. She repeated the motion a couple times before she looked back at Bobby.

"So what are you guys actually doing here? I doubt it was to come see little ol' me."

"That's why he came." Bobby pointed over at Tommy who was now grinning rather sheepishly. Elle felt a blush slowly creep on her cheeks, but she kept her eyes focused on Bobby. "I'm meeting Greyson. Borrowed something of his a while back and he's been hounding me to get it back."

"What is it?"

"That's between me and Greyson. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I need some air." Bobby nodded his head toward Elle before he stood up and walked toward the door. Elle just sat there, with her hand still in Tommy's. She felt rather awkward about it, but she didn't want to make an even more awkward move of pulling her hand from his. She had already played the bitch card once today; but truth was, right now, she just wanted to be alone right now and part of her hoped that Greyson showed up soon to get whatever it was he needed from Bobby.

Three days later, Greyson still hadn't showed up. Bobby and Tommy stayed in a bunkhouse just off the Roadhouse for hunters. Elle always found it sort of odd that Ellen had literally taken her into her home instead of having her stay in the bunkhouse; but it did give her more privacy and for that she was thankful. Especially now as she stood in front of the new mirror Bobby had installed in the bathroom for them. The past few days, Bobby had been busy taking care of chores that Ash had never gotten around to, while Elle for the most part had tried to seclude herself in her room. Ash seemed to come up to her room more than usual, but she just shrugged it off.

Elle sighed, knowing that she had to meet Tommy after breakfast for a walk. He had mostly helped Bobby or sat in her room with her. They didn't really talk much about anything important. He told her how Haley and Ben were doing while Elle filled him in on a little bit about Sam, Dean, and some of the cases they had been on. He was so sweet to her and she wasn't sure how to respond. Did she want this? She wasn't sure, but she felt almost as if he was in too deep for her to just back out of things. Tommy had tried several times to kiss her, but she always moved her head a bit so that he kissed her cheek or forehead instead. She knew that she was being a tease, but she just felt numb inside about everything, despite being able to mostly put a façade on for everyone else. Elle splashed water at her face before she headed over to the Roadhouse for some breakfast.

Upon entering the Roadhouse, Ash stopped her for a moment, resting his hands on her shoulder. He looked straight into her eyes and said nothing. It was as if he were scrutinizing her. Unable to focus on him, Elle shrugged her shoulders to get his hands off her. Ash didn't say anything as he watched Elle go sit at a table with Tommy, who was sipping a cup of coffee. He smiled and greeted Elle with a kiss on the top of the head as she sat down across from him. Elle gave a weak smile before looking out the window to see Bobby yelling at someone on the phone.

"Greyson," Tommy said after taking a sip of coffee. "Bobby's giving the guy until the end of the day to get here."

"And then you'll head back to South Dakota?" Elle questioned, trying not to sound too hopeful. Damnit. She did enjoy Tommy's company, she really did. He made her feel like she was still the old Elle; but she knew better than to hope that she was still that girl.

"We'll see. I mean, I enjoy working with Bobby. He's been really great teaching me about things. Cars and…you know. But I don't know if I'll go back right away. We'll just see." Elle sat there almost stunned. It wasn't until Ellen came over to ask them what they wanted to eat that Elle got over her shock; but it was Tommy who ordered first. "I'll have a couple eggs over easy, some bacon, and toast."

"And you honey?" Ellen asked looking toward Elle.

"I—uh—surprise me," Elle responded. "But if you give me eggs, not over easy. They make me queasy."

Ellen chuckled and shook her head as she ruffled Elle's hair. "Of all the things…" Ellen walked back into the kitchen as Bobby came back inside grumbling to himself. He sat down beside Elle.

"Greyson's a pain in my ass," Bobby said. "I don't know who's worse—Greyson or Rufus."

"Greyson isn't so bad," Elle commented, shrugging her shoulders.

"That's 'cuz you saved him and he owes you. He's a loyal son-of-a-bitch once you earn his trust, but most of the time he's a good for nothing pain in the ass."

When the food was finished cooking, Ellen brought a plate for each of them and for herself and Ash. Ash pulled a chair up to their table, sitting at the head of the table with Tommy and Elle on his sides. He kept staring at Elle as she ate food to which she responded by rolling her eyes; but Ash seemed intently focused on her eyes for some reason. Elle yawned with a stretch sending a wave of nausea over her. She quickly got up and ran to the bathroom. Scrambled eggs and salsa were good going down but they were terrible coming back up. Elle was pretty sure they were going to become one of those foods you didn't eat for a long time because you puked them up and then they brought back bad taste memories. As she leaned against the toilet, there came a knock on the bathroom door. It was Ash asking if she was ok. Elle responded through the door that she must have a bit of acid reflux from last night's pizza before she washed her hands and walked out of the bathroom.

After breakfast, Tommy and Elle went out back to walk around the property. Things actually felt calm and for the first time since Tommy arrived. Elle actually felt rather at ease with him; aside from the rather defensive stance she walked with—her arms folded across her chest. It was as if something inside of her had magically changed. Mood swings—she knew she was having them, but she was a so screwed up that it really didn't make a difference and that thought scared her. Tears began to slip from her eyes at her thoughts, something Tommy took notice of. He stopped her and looked deeply into those pain-ridden bright blue eyes.

"What's wrong?" Tommy asked. There was no holding it back anymore. Another levee inside Elle was going to break; but she could attempt to control which one it was.

"Everything," Elle whispered. She then collapsed against Tommy's chest as the tears continued to fall. Why was this happening? Minutes ago she had felt perfectly fine and content with things and now, she was a huge freaking mess. Tommy just held her as she sobbed against him. He whispered words of comfort into her hair as he gently pressed kisses against the top of her head. "Nothing seems right anymore. It doesn't matter how hard I try—everything seems to go to hell. I miss my brothers, but I can't keep them around. I miss Jo. I don't know what I did to drive her away, but I'm sure I did something. I—I miss my dad. I never thought I'd say those words, but I miss him. I miss the way my life was before he died. I—I'm just a disaster and nothing is getting better. It's never going to get better."

She was hurting and there was nothing she knew Tommy could say to make it go away—to make it feel better. But Elle wasn't looking for that and what she did next surprised her. Elle backed away and before Tommy could even utter a single word, she pulled his face down to hers and crashed her lips on his. He hungrily responded, causing Elle to gasp as he pulled her body tight against his once more. She didn't think about things. She didn't think about how it wasn't right or how she was using Tommy—instead, she just did everything in her power to make herself forget. To make herself forget how messed up she was. To make herself forget how hideous she looked. To make herself forget about the monsters. To make herself forget about everything.

Tommy's hands moved down her body until they rested right beneath her butt before he then easily picked her up with his strong arms. Elle broke the kiss with a slight shiver going down her spine. Before she went in for another kiss, she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist…surprisingly enjoying the feeling of someone this close to her. With Elle in his arms, Tommy carried her until they came to an old fence. He set her on the top rung of the fence before he started to caress her neck. Elle's eyes fluttered as he kissed the sensitive spots of her scars. Not wanting to be reminded of her scars she pulled Tommy's face back to hers. They eventually broke apart, each needing to catch their breath; but Tommy rested his forehead on hers and looked at her intently.

"I knew you were still in there," Tommy said, heaving for a proper breath as he stared into Elle's eyes. "I knew you'd come around." Unsure of what to say, Elle gently kissed him again before gently nibbling his lower lip which made him chuckle. "I've missed you."

"Me too," Elle whispered, not taking the time to think through if she actually meant it or not. She went in for another kiss, but Tommy pressed a finger to her lips.

"I think I love you," Tommy said gently. Elle's head and heart ached at those words. She sat there for a few moments just staring at Tommy trying to remember when the last time she had heard those words and who had said them to her. As far as she knew, no one had said those words by choice. But not wanting to think about things or actually voice a response, she managed to steal another kiss from Tommy. Kissing him was much better than thinking about things and for now, he seemed to accept that response. She wasn't exactly sure what prompted the words; but right now she didn't care—she was simply trying to forget about things.

Eventually, Tommy and Elle walked back to the Roadhouse. Tommy wrapped his arm around Elle's shoulder, holding her close, but Elle didn't really reciprocate anything. Instead, she just allowed him to do what he was doing. They were suddenly broken apart by a blue Jeep's tires squealing into the Roadhouse's gravel lot. Gravel flew everywhere, some of it hitting Elle and Tommy as the Jeep came to a stop. A rather gruff looking Peter Greyson jumped out of the Jeep and lowered his sunglasses to view Elle and Tommy, before he nodded his head in Elle's direction and walked into the Roadhouse. Elle could feel the pain in her hand beginning to intensify, meaning that it was time for her to take a Vicodin. So, she made a lame excuse to Tommy as to why she had to go back to the house…alone and that she would see him soon. Tommy kissed her forehead before he walked back to the Roadhouse leaving Elle to continue back to the house.

Elle walked in the house and went upstairs to her room. Assuming that everyone was back in the Roadhouse, she went straight for her shoulder bag to grab her bottle; but it wasn't where she thought she left it. So, she dumped out the entire contents of her bag onto her bed and started rummaging through her stuff: her sketchbook, pencils, pens, tampons, candy wrappers, change, receipts…but nowhere in the mess was a pill bottle. She frustratingly ran her hand through her hair. Maybe she had forgotten to put it away. Elle looked at her bedside table, under bed, on top of her dresser…but still couldn't find it. She was about to head over to the bathroom when a voice startled her.

"Looking for these, Elle Smith?" Ash drawled from the end of the hallway with a pill bottle in his hand. He gave the bottle a shake, revealing how few pills there were left in the bottle. Elle froze in shock, her mouth moving; but no sounds were escaping her lips. "Don't try and deny it, Elle. I know what's going on here."

"I—I don't know what you're talking about," Elle stammered, not wanting to 'fess up to anything, instead she thought quickly to get around his accusations. "That prescription is from my accident. Check the date."

"I can see what the date says, but it doesn't take a genius to figure that you're addicted to Vicodin. Then again, maybe it does." Of all the people to figure it out—it was Ash? Then again her brothers were too busy to care. Too busy avoiding her. But Elle wasn't going to give in. No, something within her was putting up a fight.

"The date on the bottle…."

"Judging by your symptoms, you've been on these for a while, leading me to conclude that this wasn't your only bottle." Ash shook the bottle again as Elle defensively folded her arms across her chest.

"Ash, I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You get dizzy easily, you puke for no reason, your pupils are constricted, you sleep a lot, and Ellen said that when you were knocked out the other day that your heartbeat was slow. I could go on Elle, but that's textbook addiction signs for Vicodin."

"So what? I'm in pain. I need the pills."

"I know you're in pain; but I think you're confusing physical pain with your emotional pain. There's a difference, and the Vicodin will only help with the physical pain. You need to get some help."

"No. I told you I'm fine. Now, hand me over my pills. I'm in pain and I need one."

"I can't with a good conscience do that."

"Eff you, Ash. I thought I could trust you. I guess I was wrong. Fine, don't give me the pills. Be a dick." Elle turned to walk away when Ash caught her arm. She struggled to get out of his strong grip. "Get your hand off me or I'll scream."

"I'm doing this because I care about you, Elle. You've been like the little sister I never wanted. I don't want to see you like this. You have two options here, Elle. Either get help and I'll keep my mouth shut for now—or I will tell Ellen and your brothers. Make the right choice here, Elle." Ash released her arm and walked away from her as he shoved the pill bottle in his vest pocket. With her hands balled in fists, despite the immense pain emulating from one hand, Elle ran back to her bed and flung herself on it. She buried her face in the pillow and screamed. This couldn't be happening. Why did Ash have to have a giant stick up his ass about this? Why couldn't he just leave well enough alone?

Unsure of what to do next, Elle knew that she needed some air before she punched a mirror again; so she headed outside to see Greyson's Jeep sitting there. An idea popped into her head. She couldn't be here anymore with Ash watching her like a hawk; but she could leave. She could leave with Greyson, who owed her—and it would look like she was leaving to get help. Her heart panged for a second when she thought of Tommy; but it made the reason make all the more sense. This way she didn't have to figure that mess out either. She felt bad about just up and leaving Ellen; but it seemed to be the thing to do. She would understand, right? Either way, she made the rash decision to run back to the house, to the room she had come to call her own after all these months, and she began shoving all her belongings into her duffel bag and shoulder bag. Tigger didn't fit in her bags, so she carried him separately as she walked through the house. It was sad that it only took her a matter of minutes to pack up her whole life; but then again, she had been doing that since she was little. Closing the door, literally, on the new life she had wanted, Elle crossed the gravel to Greyson's Jeep. It was good timing too, because he walked out of the Roadhouse with a box in his arms just as Elle leaned against his vehicle.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Greyson hissed.

"I'm coming with you," Elle stated.

"You don't even know where I'm going."

"Don't really care. Just gotta get away from it all."

"Listen, Kid, I don't have time to play babysitter to you."

"In case you have forgotten, I saved your ass—you owe me. You said if I ever needed anything—and I'm asking."

Greyson stood there in a stunned silence for a moment before he responded, "Throw your stuff in the back and get in."

"Thank you."

"I told you to put your stuff in the Jeep, not to talk."

"Someone's grouchy," Elle muttered to herself as she tossed her duffel into the back, beside the box Greyson had been carrying. She was half-tempted to ask him what was in the box; but he already seemed pissed-off enough as it was. She then walked to the passenger's side and opened the door before swinging her shoulder bag onto the floor of the Jeep, which was covered in old fast-food wrappers. It's not like it was something she hadn't seen before. Elle hopped into the vehicle, hugging Tigger tightly.

"Buckle up." Elle gave Greyson a weird look. Of all the things to care about, buckling her seatbelt? She rolled her eyes before the buckle clicked and she tugged at the strap. Greyson pulled his vehicle into drive and Elle looked back once more to watch the Roadhouse grow smaller in the distance. It hurt her to leave, but this was the only thing she could think to do right now. In the distance, she swore she could have saw someone exit the Roadhouse and almost start running after them, but that was probably wishful thinking on her part.

After driving for a while, they finally made it to a highway. The top of the Jeep was down and the wind whipped through Elle's hair as she sat there silently in the vehicle beside Greyson. After about a half hour of awkwardness on the open road, Elle couldn't take it anymore. She leaned forward and reached for the radio, saying "How 'bout some music?" Elle pressed turned the volume dial up when "Beautiful Soul" by Jesse McCartney came blasting through the speakers. With a horrified expression on her face, she turned toward Greyson who had tensed at the wheel; but he reached to change it. He hit the seek button; but it only caused another Jesse McCartney song to blare through the speakers. Greyson then quickly turned the volume down as Elle sat there trying to hold back her laughter…he had a Jesse McCartney CD. Big, badass Peter Greyson was a Jesse McCartney fan. Elle couldn't help it—she started laughing. Laughing so hard that tears started to stream from her eyes.

"Oh, my god," Elle laughed as her stomach began to ache from laughter.

"It's not what it looks like," Greyson grumbled.

"You own a Jesse McCartney CD. You, Peter Greyson—were the last person on earth I would expect to own a Jesse McCartney CD."

"Crappy music keeps me awake when I drive. That's all."

"Suuurree. You really think I'm gonna buy that?"

"Just shut up or I'm dumping you on the side of the road."

"I want you and your beautiful soul."

"Kid, I swear to god…"

"I'm done…I'm done…" Elle turned away toward her window before muttering, "For now." Thankfully, Greyson didn't hear her side comment, he just continued to drive with his hands at ten and two on the wheel and with his eyes straight on the road. It was funny, so far, he wasn't turning out to be all that intimidating as he came off; but Elle shrugged it off. Instead, she rested her elbow on the door near the window and rested her head on her hand, letting the breeze continue to roll through her hair as she watched the flat scenery they drove past. Nebraska, that was all one could really say about the place. Elle had seen the state plenty of times on her cross-country road trips with her brothers and it always seemed like the state it took the longest to drive through.

Thinking of her brothers reminded her of how she had left things back at the Roadhouse. So, she pulled out her phone and saw that she had several texts and missed calls from Tommy, a missed call from Bobby, and a missed call from Ellen. Looked like they actually figured out pretty quickly that she had left. Her heart beat wildly as she opened the text from Tommy to see if he made any mentions of Ash's revelation about her. With each text she opened, her heart beat seemed to thud a little harder; but when she got to the last text, she was surprised to see that Tommy hadn't mentioned anything. Ash couldn't keep his mouth shut about anything; so it was only a matter of time before he spilled the beans and until then, Elle was sure she was going to feel like she was up against a clock counting down the precise moment it happened. Elle turned her phone off before shoving it in her shoulder bag and resting her head against the window she had closed. With her arms folded across her chest, and pain rippling through her hand, Elle closed her eyes and fell asleep as Greyson tapped the steering wheel with his pointer fingers.

When Elle finally awoke, the sun was beginning to set. She was always tired; but she hadn't expected to sleep that long. Greyson looked over to her before asking if she wanted to stop for supper. Elle groggily nodded her head yes as Greyson responded that the next exit was in about fifteen miles. Sitting up straight, Elle could feel that her right cheek was flushed from sleeping on it. She rubbed at it for a second before she reached down for her shoulder bag and pulled out her phone. She sat there and stared at the object in her hand in the dusk, debating whether or not to turn it back on. Elle was sure that by this point, someone had to have told Sam and Dean, right? Her hands tensed for a minute. Elle wasn't sure if it was from the nervousness or pain; but she decided to shove her phone back into her bag—not ready for whatever the fallout was going to be.

"So where are we?" Elle questioned.

"Approaching Tulsa," Greyson responded. "I know this little joint there, unless you had something in mind."

"Wherever is fine."

"So when are we gonna talk about it, Winchester?"

"Talk about what?"

"Who or what you're running from. I feel like I'm transporting a known fugitive."

"Just drop me off in Tulsa then. I'll figure something else out."

"And have Bobby Singer, your brothers, and the Harvelles on my ass? I don't think so. I may be reckless, but I ain't stupid."

Elle scoffed aloud at Greyson's words; but didn't say anything else. Instead, she rested her feet up on the dash, expecting Greyson to say something; but he didn't. So once again, a lull fell over them until Greyson pulled into the parking lot for some place called Porky's Diner. Elle jumped out of the Jeep and stretched as she walked around the vehicle while Greyson put the cover on. Not that it would do much against someone trying to steal something; but they would probably be too scared of Greyson's weapon cache in the back to be too scared to take much. Together, Elle and Greyson walked into the diner and were seated by the waitress. Elle knew that if Dean were here, he'd be hitting on her left and right; but Greyson didn't do that. In fact, he held his usual pissed-off face on as the waitress tried to sweet talk him. He wasn't buying any of it.

"Your dad's a looker," the waitress winked toward Elle.

"He's not my…" Elle started.

"Two waters," Greyson interrupted. "Now." The waitress frowned that her attempts had been spurned before she walked back into the kitchen to grab their water. "God, she was annoying."

"I thought you would have liked the attention."

"She just wants my money. You know, the loads of it I have stashed somewhere." Elle knew he was being sarcastic. The life of a hunter wasn't exactly well paid; but most of them managed to funnel some funds to support themselves. "Besides, I don't think her daddy would approve."

"Speaking of, how old are you?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

"How is this relevant?"

"I'm twenty-two, I'm just simply curious if it is even physically possible for you to even be my daddy."

"Forty-one."

"Meaning you would have been nineteen when I was born. Could be worse, sometimes people would think Dean was my dad and there's not even that big of an age gap there, like five years. There was this one time in Seattle…"

"Kid, shut up for a minute. I'm trying to read my menu in peace and after that I'd like to eat my meal in peace and then digest it without your yapping." Elle raised her eyebrows at Greyson before rolling her eyes and turning her attention to her menu. She went to turn the page when pain began shooting up her right arm from her hand. Elle muttered an obscenity under her breath before she reached for her injured hand with her good hand, putting pressure on it. Elle looked up to see Greyson with his eyes intently watching her.

"Don't say anything."

"I wasn't going to."

The waitress eventually came back and took their orders. She still appeared quite pissed off with Greyson, so he ordered a rather complicated meal just to piss her off even more. Elle knew that he was going to complain if any part of his order came back wrong just to mess with her. Not wanting to piss the woman off even further, Elle kept her order simple: a cheeseburger with a side of fries and a Dr. Pepper. Then they sat there and waited. Elle dumped some salt and pepper on the table before she used her finger to push the granules into a picture of a starry night. Greyson shook his head as he watched her with a slightly amused look on his face. After a wait that seemed like an eternity, a new waitress came up to them bringing their food and profusely apologizing for the wait. They ate in silence until Beautiful Soul suddenly came on over the diner's speakers. Elle tried not to smile once again.

"Don't say anything," Greyson hissed.

"I wasn't going to,' Elle smirked back, mimicking their earlier conversation. Once she had her emotions under control, she continued, "So, where are we headed?"

"Savannah."

"What's in Savannah?"

"Something."

"Real, specific."

"Well, I haven't gotten there yet, have I? Now, can I eat?"

Wisely, Elle said nothing more as Greyson dug into his steak. When they were finished eating, Greyson paid the bill for the two of them despite Elle pulling out some cash for her meal. Honestly, the man was confusing. He acted rough and tough, but then he would do something nice like this. She had no idea what to think of the whiplash she was going through; but she didn't have long to think about it because out of nowhere her bones and muscles started to ache. She winced from the pain, which felt like her body was being torn at the seams. But she said nothing and instead raced to the bathroom where once again, her meal came up. Elle sat beside the toilet with her back against the wall, running her fingers through her hair. This wasn't going to go well. She needed to get some hands on some more Vicodin or face the cruel consequences that were headed her way. There was a loud knock on the door. It was Greyson telling her that they needed to hit the road.

Sixteen hours later, the Jeep pulled into Savannah, Georgia. Elle hadn't slept the entire trip. It seemed like every time she shut her eyes she got another chill or intense pains in her bones. By the time they reached Savannah, Elle was sweating profusely bundled in many layers and blankets; but yet, she was still cold. Greyson eyed her suspiciously every now and then; but it wasn't until they pulled up in front of an old plantation house in Savannah that he said anything.

"You're in withdrawal from something," Greyson stated. "I've seen those symptoms too many times. What are you in to?"

"Nothing," Elle mumbled. "I'm fine. Just a cold."

"A cold? My ass it's a cold. What is it Winchester?"

"Is this the job? Let's go check it out." Elle didn't really want to check the house out for anything; but it was better than being interrogated by Greyson. So, she dropped the blankets that were wrapped around her, grabbed her shoulder bag, and hopped out of the Jeep.

Elle lead the way up to the seemingly ornate home built of red brick with white trim and Grecian pillars in the front. Police tape barricaded the front door; but Elle still managed to shimmy the lock and open the door as Greyson ran up behind her. Ignoring him and the shivers shooting up her spine, Elle crawled through the yellow tape before she stepped onto a plush rug in the entryway.

"So what happened here?" Elle asked.

"Moira Stanfield was found murdered by her housekeeper. No sign of forced entry. No one strange reported in the neighborhood. No known enemies. She moved in here about three months before she died," Greyson responded as he struggled to get his larger frame through the tape.

"So what makes you think it's our kind of thing?"

"My gut and the fact that three other people have been murdered here since the house was built."

Elle shrugged her shoulders before she pulled her EMF reader out of her shoulder bag. She told Greyson that she'd go check out the upstairs and he should look at the main level. Of course, Greyson didn't like being told what to do-but he went along with her plan anyway. This would go faster if they split up to cover more ground. Elle continued shake from the chills rolling through her body as she climbed the grand staircase to the second story. She went straight for the bathroom, not because she needed to use the facilities, but because she wanted to search the medicine cabinet. The woman had to have something Elle could take. Something to ease this pain she had caused herself.

For only having lived there a few months, the deceased's medicine cabinet was stocked full of medicines. She knew she should feel bad about rummaging through a dead person's medicine cabinet, but her need to feed her addiction was too great for her to care. She almost shouted for joy when she found a bottle of Vicodin in the back of the cabinet. Instead, she set the EMF reader down, which she didn't realize she had still been holding, before she opened the bottle. It was almost full. Thank god. She popped a pill into her mouth before swallowing it without any water.

"Find anything?" Greyson called from downstairs.

"Not yet," Elle called back before she shoved the pill bottle into her shoulder bag and picked her up EMF meter again. She knew it was going to take a bit for the Vicodin to kick back in, so until then she was just going to have to grin and bear it.

Turning the EMF meter on, Elle walked around the bathroom, getting nothing. She then walked into the master bedroom which had a huge four poster canopy bed in it. Still nothing. Elle walked down the hallway when Greyson shouted that he had something. Elle's feet quickly shuffled across the floor and down the stairs. She called for Greyson, in a manner that somewhat resembled the game "Marco Polo" until she found him in the kitchen pantry where his EMF meter was going crazy.

"Something's going on here," Greyson said.

"You think?" Elle said sarcastically. "We should probably get the records for this place and see if there were any violent deaths."

"Have you seen where we are, Winchester? We're on a plantation, of course there were violent deaths here. This house dates back to before the Civil War."

"We should torch the place then."

"And what if they decide to rebuild?"

"So, what do you suggest we do then?"

"Look through the records and archives."

"But you just said…"

"I didn't say it was a bad idea. It just doesn't take a genius to figure out what to do next. But I need some sleep first."

"What if someone decides to break in?"

"What kind of idiot crosses police tape?" Greyson looked directly at Elle with a solemn expression on his face. She folded her arms across her chest defensively and rolled her eyes.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny."

Greyson and Elle piled back into his blue Jeep before heading to the closest cheap motel. Elle and Greyson decided to share a motel room with two queen sized beds. It was either that or shell out extra money when it wasn't really necessary. It was strange walking into a motel room with someone besides her brothers. There was no bickering over who took what bed. No playfulness involved, not that she really wanted that sort of thing to happen. It just reminded her that she missed her brothers, even though Dean was being a friggin' asshole. Elle threw her stuff on the bed farthest from the door before she plopped down onto it.

After he walked through the door, Greyson walked across the room and over to the bathroom as Elle turned on the TV. Flipping through the channels, she didn't really find anything good on TV. She skipped the "Gilmore Girls" rerun, because the guy looked too much like Sam but yet was named Dean. Creepy. She skipped some sappy Hallmark movie. She skipped some reality show competition on MTV. Finally, she gave up and just turned the TV off before laying back against her pillows before Greyson emerged freshly showered telling her that she should probably do the same.

Elle nodded her head in acknowledgment, but first she turned on her phone to see how many voicemails and texts she had. It took several minutes for them all to appear, but she had a couple dozen texts from Tommy, several voicemails from Bobby and Ellen, and Jo had even texted her; but surprisingly, there was nothing from Sam or Dean. Forgetting to turn her phone off again, Elle set it on the bedside table before she took Greyson's suggestion to shower. The Vicodin seemed to be working again as the water poured over her. The intense shivers and muscle aches seemed to have subsided. When she had finished washing herself, she just stood there in the hot water as it cascaded down her body until Greyson started yelling for her to answer her damn phone.

Quickly jumping out of the shower, Elle covered herself in a towel before she ran to the door. Once she opened it, she found Greyson standing there holding her phone out to her. Elle blushed, trying to keep the towel wrapped around herself as she reached for her phone, which it appeared Greyson had already answered for her. Damnit. Grabbing it, she looked at the number calling her and she didn't recognize it, but a voice repeated her name through the phone...a voice she recognized.

"Sam?" Elle said weakly putting the phone up to her ear.

"What the hell is Greyson doing answering your phone? Are you two...you know…" Sam's voice couldn't finish the sentence before Elle interrupted him.

"Ew. Sam. No. We're-uh-hunting."

"Well, Dean and I could really use your help."

"After the shitty way he's been treating me, why should I help?"

"Because we've been arrested and we're in trouble. Big trouble."


	30. The Usual Suspects

Arrested? Her brothers had been arrested and she was expected to bail them out. Of course she was. Elle had to admit that for a moment, she felt anger toward her brothers. She was angry that they had left her and then they had gotten into trouble. Not that she necessarily would have gone with them; but the fact of the matter was, they abandoned her and probably at a time when she really could have used them. Then again, they probably would have found out about the Vicodin thing had they been at the Roadhouse. Elle bit her bottom lip, still holding onto the towel with one hand as her wet hair dripped down her body and into a small pool on the white tile floor.

"Elle, you still there?" Sam's voice asked through the phone.

"I-uh-yeah," Elle said shifting her weight from one side to another.

"I don't have long to talk; but we need you to come here and bail us out."

"You really think I make enough money to post bail for the two of you? Just because I actually managed to hold down a job longer than you two doesn't mean that I'm made of money."

"I know, but I really need your help. They're pinning a murder here on Dean and they've connected him to the St. Louis shifter, the attack on Becky, and god knows what else."

"Shit." Elle closed her eyes before letting the phone rest on her shoulder so that she could pinch the bridge of her nose as memories of that shifter played through her head. The shifter that had taken her. Of course, ol' Yellow Eyes, made that shifter look like a creepy date to the prom; but still, it wasn't a fond memory for her. She bit her bottom lip again before she turned to look at her reflection in the mirror through the fogged surface. Every scar still clearly visible through the fog. "Why me? Why not Bobby?"

"Because you're our sister, Elle. That's why. Family helps each other. Family is there for each other. Family…"

"Family doesn't get left behind, right?" Sam went silent as Elle stood there anxiously tapping her foot against the tile. "Right?"

"Elle, it wasn't on purpose."

"Neither is this." Elle pulled the phone away from her ear and hung up on Sam. She knew she had acted irrationally. She knew she shouldn't have hung up on Sam; but yet she did anyway.

Greyson stood in the doorway staring at her. Elle shifted uncomfortably. She wasn't sure if he was staring at the fact she was dressed only in a towel or the scars that marked her body. Elle slammed the door shut on him before she rewrapped the towel around her body. She closed the lid on the toilet and sat down on it. Elle half-expected Sam to call back, but he didn't. Oh well. It seemed like she had come to their rescue quite a few time recently. Besides, now that she thought of it, Sam was probably making the whole thing up. Ash probably had spilled the whole thing to him and Sam wanted to make her come to him. It made sense. A knock came at the door.

"Go away, Greyson," Elle hissed.

"We need to talk, Winchester," Greyson said through the door.

"I've already had the sex talk. It was awkward enough. Don't need again, thank you very much."

"Not the conversation I was planning on. I had two in mind-you pick: the phone call or those ritualistic marks covering your body."

Elle opened the door a crack, "How 'bout neither. How about I got get some food from the vending machine and we forget all about this."

"Winchester."

"Greyson."

"Winchester."

"Saying my last name over and over again isn't going to help you get your way." Elle slammed the bathroom door shut again, anger burning within her. She wasn't sure who she was more pissed at: Sam and Dean or Greyson. Probably both. But Greyson-why was he pushing like this? Why did he care about the stupid phone call or the markings covering her body? Did he just want to make her even more self-conscious and self-loathing than she already was?

Elle trembled a bit as she turned to look at herself in the mirror. Images of punching the mirror back at Ellen's flashed through her mind as she could easily Yellow Eyes' carvings into her flesh. Although something Greyson said struck her. He said they were ritualistic. She had been so wrapped up in the fact that she had the markings to notice that they did seem to be placed on her for a certain reason. But there was no way in hell she was going to let Greyson know that he had gotten to her. No. Instead, she quickly dressed in the clothes she had been wearing earlier before she exited the bathroom with her hair hanging down her back, dripping wet.

Without even looking at Greyson, who was lounging on his bed, Elle walked over to her shoulder bag and pulled out a wad of cash of her earnings from the Roadhouse. Normally, she would be tempted to ask if he wanted anything from the vending machines, but she was too pissed at him to ask. She slipped her Converse sneakers onto her feet without untying them, meaning her heels stuck out of her shoes, before swiping the spare key from the table and then heading for the door. Greyson asked her where the hell she thought she was going, but Elle retorted that she had already told him where she intended to go. Slamming the door behind her she shuffled her feet to find the vending machines.

It was a bit chillier outside than she had been expecting, but then again her wet hair didn't help matters. Elle found the vending machines outside the main office. She jumped up and down a bit from a chill that went up her spine as she examined what was available in the vending machines. Deciding on a Cherry Coke to drink, she put her money in the machine, pressed the buttons, and it spit out a bottle of Cherry Coke at her. She then turned her attention to the machine filled with processed junk food. Elle selected Cool Ranch Doritos and an Almond Joy bar before she slowly dragged her feet back to the room she was sharing with Greyson.

Elle stood outside the motel room, leaning against the siding of the building as she opened her bag of Doritos. She bit into a chip as she pulled her flannel shirt a little closer to her body. Wiping the excess cool ranch onto her jeans she looked over at the sweet old lady coming out the room a few doors down. It was certainly an odd place for someone like her to be staying, but then again, she could probably say the same thing about Elle. Elle opened her soda and took a swig of it before she decided that it was probably time to face the inevitable. Besides, she wanted nothing more than to sprawl out over the bed she had staked a claim to. Slowly, opening the door, Elle watched as Greyson immediately sprang to his feet.

"'Bout time you got back, Winchester," Greyson stated as he picked up his duffel bag and swung it on his back. "We're leaving."

"Wait, what?" Elle spluttered, spewing Doritos.

"I figured you were intelligent enough to know what the words 'we're leaving' mean."

With a chip hanging in her hand not quite to her mouth, Elle watched as Greyson walked over to her side of the room and grabbed her duffel bag and shoulder bag. Greyson tossed the shoulder bag at Elle's feet before he walked outside to put the two duffel bags in the Jeep. Elle just stood there stunned by what was going on. Greyson wiped a bead of sweat from his brow as he entered the motel room once more.

"Where are we going?" Elle demanded.

"Baltimore." Greyson grunted.

"We just got here...to Savannah."

"And your brothers are in trouble...in Baltimore."

"How-how do you know about that?"

"I was right there you know. Besides, you left your phone on the bathroom counter. I took it and called the last number. The number was legit-the Baltimore Police Department."

"I'm not going."

"Well, I sure as hell ain't leaving you here."

"You can't make me go."

"The hard way it is then." Greyson bent over and picked Elle up, swinging her over his shoulder before he reached over and grabbed her shoulder bag. Elle screamed for him to put her down, but he ignored her pleas. Instead he just tightened his grip on the Winchester girl as he stepped outside the motel room. The little old lady Elle had seen earlier stood there with her eyes wide and her hand over her heart as she watched Elle continue to scream and fight Greyson.

"What do you think you're doing?" the little old lady demanded of Greyson.

"It's foreplay ma'am," Greyson winked toward the old woman. Both the old woman and Elle were flabbergasted by the statement. Elle stopped fighting him momentarily to stare at him with wide eyes as the woman walked away muttering something about kids these days. Greyson then plopped Elle into the Jeep before he ran over to the driver's side door and hopped it.

"That was crude," Elle hissed as she folded her arms across her chest. "As if I'd ever sleep with someone as old as you."

"Shut you up, didn't it?"

Nine hours later Greyson's blue Jeep drove into the city of Baltimore. Elle still wore a pissed-off expression as they whirred by the lit street lights and other cars. The entire car ride had been completely silent aside from the Jesse McCartney CD coming through the speakers on repeat. She's No You blared through the speakers as Greyson drove by some street named Ashland. The Winchester girl sat slouched in the seat with her feet on the dash, tapping them to the beat of the music when Elle closed her eyes as a jolt of pain ran through her hand. She had taken a Vicodin at their last stop, but it seemed to be becoming less and less effective. Absently, she rubbed at her hand before she looked over at Greyson. He already knew she was on something, so she reached into her shoulder bag for the bottle of Vicodin she had taken from the dead woman's house in Savannah. She still tried to hide what she was doing inside the confines of her bag before she tossed her head back to swallow the pill in her mouth. Elle looked over at Greyson who shook his head.

"I knew you were on something," Greyson mumbled.

"Congratulations, you win absolutely nothing," Elle retorted. "And if you want me to help with this thing, you won't tell my brothers."

"That's messed up-putting conditions on helping your brothers."

"They're not completely innocent in all of this, you know."

"Hey, I'm just tellin' it like I see it and you're messed up kid."

"And you're not?"

"Never said I wasn't."

There was an awkward lull in the conversation as Elle slightly huffed; but her immaturity won out. She turned to look at Greyson and narrowed her eyes."Are we there yet?"

"Shit, kid. I'm doing this for you."

"I didn't ask you to."

"You don't want to live with that regret too. Seems to me you have enough of it already."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, forget I said anything." Elle looked at him curiously. There seemed to be a hidden meaning behind what he had said. What was she missing? Was there something more to Greyson than just the rough exterior? She wanted to press the matter more when Greyson pointed to a building on her side of the street. "We're here."

Greyson pulled into the parking garage across the street from the police station. He parked the Jeep in the stall closest to the exit beside a black car with tinted windows. Greyson seemed perfectly calm as he turned the engine off and then began tapping the steering wheel methodically. Elle childishly folded her arms across her chest and rested her Batman socked feet on the dash as they waited. She wasn't sure what they were waiting for until a man stepped out of the car beside them and walked over to the Jeep. The man who tapped on Greyson's window was bald and dressed in a sharp suit. Greyson nodded his head at the guy before he manually rolled down the window.

"Dwayne," Greyson said.

"Pete," the bald man responded before he handed a manilla envelope toward Greyson. "Everything should be there. As requested."

"Better be."

"It's not looking good for the Dean guy."

"I didn't ask for your prognosis Columbo."

"Don't do anything stupid, Pete."

"I won't be."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Doesn't really matter, does it? I'd say it was nice to see you, but let's not do this again real soon." Greyson began rolling up his window as the man named Dwayne sighed and then walked back toward his car. The gruff man seated beside Elle began to rifle through the folder before tossing it into Elle's lap. "You're welcome."

Elle opened the folder. Inside the envelope was fake credentials for a law firm in Baltimore with her picture on them. The picture of her had clearly come from a photo that had been on her cellphone. She looked over at Greyson and rolled her eyes. "What's this for?"

"My once high opinion of your intelligence seems to steadily keep dropping."

"You're an ass."

"And you need to get your little one in there and help your brothers."

"Why can't you do it?"

"Because it's your face on the documents that I went out on a limb for. Don't make me regret that decision, Winchester."

"What is with you and regret?"

"You do this and maybe I'll tell you about it."

"Maybe? Only maybe?"

"Take it or leave it, Winchester."

"I hate you," Elle sighed as she poured the contents of the envelope onto her lap. "So, what's the plan?"

Greyson explained the plan to Elle. Apparently, the guy named Dwayne had intercepted the call to get the boys a lawyer. Elle was going to go pose an attorney for public defender's office. From there, Elle was a little foggy on all the details but she knew that Greyson would be waiting outside for them in his Jeep. It was up to Elle. Either she had to figure out a way to prove reasonable doubt to free her brothers or she literally had to smuggle them out. Neither option was easy, but if it ended up being the latter she needed to make a phone call to Greyson so he could distract the officers while Elle pulled the fire alarm before they made their getaway making Elle a felon. Although, she technically already was-but there wasn't an Elle Winchester in the system...at least, not yet.

Having changed into more professional clothes in the bathroom of the restaurant down the street, Elle Winchester marched up toward the building they were holding her brothers. She pushed the fake glasses further up the bridge of her nose before she itched at the tight bun she had pulled her hair back into. She felt very uncomfortable as she attached her ID badge to her blazer. Elle rolled her eyes at the name on the badge. Elle Woods? Seriously, Greyson? Was this supposed to be some sort of sick joke naming her after the Legally Blonde character? She was going to kick his ass if she made out unscathed.

Elle set her shoulders and stern expression as she opened the door of the station, the annoying heels, she had stolen months ago, clicking with every step she took. She caught a glimpse of herself from the reflection in the window-mostly looking at the scars that were visible. She had tried to cover them up with some cheap makeup, but it almost made them stick out even worse. But she needed to stay focused. If the Baltimore P.D. was going to buy that she really was an attorney named Elle Woods. Her stomach flipped at the stupid last name. How many times had Dean given her stupid aliases and yet this one seemed to top the list of the worst. Strutting with more confidence than she actually had, Elle approached the front desk.

"How can I help you?" the man at the desk asked.

"I'm here to see a-uh-Mr. Winchester and Mr. Winchester," Elle stated.

"Identification?" Elle attempted to give the man a smile before she unclipped the badge from her blazer and handed it to him. Her heart began to beat wildly as the man looked slightly puzzled at it. "Elle Woods?"

"Yeah-that's me. It's a complete coincidence that there's a character in a movie playing an attorney. Complete coincidence."

"Huh, never seen it. What movie?"

"It wasn't any good. I wouldn't recommend it. Total chick flick."

The man nodded his head, seemingly satisfied with her response. "Follow me, Ms. Woods. I'll take you back to see them. Which one would you like to see first?"

"Surprise me."

"Oh, almost forgot. These are the charges brought against each of your clients." The man handed Elle two folders. She briefly glanced through them as the man walked her back into the heart of things toward the interrogation rooms. From what she could gather, they didn't have much on Sam. Dean on the other hand was in really deep shit. The man suddenly stopped in front of Interrogation Room C. Through the window, Elle could see that she was about to go to see Dean first and there was a slight pit of anger in her stomach at the sight of him. She had to keep her cool though. "This one is Dean Winchester. He's the older of the two." The man then snapped his fingers to get Dean's attention. "Hey, you, be nice to the lady."

Elle offered a fake chuckle before she stepped through the door. Dean's eyes widened in surprise but Elle started talking before he could blow her cover. "Mr. Winchester, I'm Elle Woods with the public defender's office. I'm going to be your lawyer."

"You? You hardly look qualified," Dean commented.

"Well, they give the hopeless cases to the newbies, sir." Elle then turned to the man who had walked her in. "Thank you. I can handle it from here." The man nodded his head and walked out of the interrogation room as Elle sat down in the chair across from Dean. She leaned back in the chair and looked through the folder once more as her older brother eyed her.

"Elle Woods is it?"

"Yes, Mr. Winchester."

"Oh, thank god. I'm saved." Elle rolled her eyes at her brother's sarcasm. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to have extra pens and paper, would you?" Elle sighed before she dug through the briefcase Greyson had given her to use. She handed Dean a pad of paper and a pen. He immediately accepted them and began furiously writing.

"You're welcome." Dean didn't even look up at her as grunted. "Now, Dean, let's discuss your case. Shall we?"

"With you? No thank you."

"You have no reason to be pissed about the situation. This mess is your fault."

"Would you be referring to my detainment or something else, Elle?"

"I think you know, Dean. I mean, I suppose on a plus side, the police haven't found the murder weapon; but they have your prints and blood on the wall. Not to mention your prior record. Looks like you two can't be left alone." Dean continued to scribble furiously. "Did you hear a word I said?"

"Yeah, you're bitching about something. Now, take a look at these." Dean flipped the paper he had been scribbling on toward Elle. "I think it's an anagram-you know, same letter different words."

"I know what an anagram is, Dean."

"You were always good at puzzles."

Elle lifted her eyes toward Dean who held a slight smile on his face. She wasn't sure how to respond. First he was hostile toward her one second and then he was like this toward her. She had know idea what he wanted from her. So, she cleared her throat and rolled her shoulders back before she slid the pad of paper closer to her.

In Dean's familiar scrawl, the pad of paper now read: DNA SHULPS, DAN SHULPAS, LAND PUSHAS, SUPASH LAND, PUSH LANDAS, PLUSH DANAS.

"None of these make any sense," Elle commented. "What was the original word?"

"Dana Shulps," Dean commented.

"Why did you jump to anagram? Dana is a name."

"Already tried that."

"Ok." Elle rested her head against her left hand as she began playing around with the letters using the pen in her right hand. "You know, we should probably be discussing the charges against you."

"There'll be time for that later."

"Not according to what's in your file and what Sam said. You could be facing the death penalty."

"You talked to Sam?"

"You're more concerned about Sam than the death penalty?"

"Elle, we face death every day in our line of work. Hell, the death penalty would probably be a more humane way to die than getting ripped to shreds by something. Now when did you talk to Sammy?"

"He wasted his phone call on me and I hung up on him. Happy?"

Dean seemed to back off a bit before he sat back in his chair. "So…"

Elle released a sigh she had been holding back before she dropped the pen and rubbed at her temples. Her list didn't make any more sense than Dean's did. panda slush, pandas lush, had alp suns, had lap suns, had pal suns, hands lap us, hands slaps u...The last one was her particular favorite, but slapping Dean wouldn't help. Elle began to fiddle with her fake ID badge and started spinning it on the table. Dean slapped his hand down on top of her badge. Elle refused to meet his gaze but she stared at her badge. Her face in the picture was unscarred. The thought made her throat constrict a bit. She examined her badge a little more when her eyes widened. "Ashland."

"What?"

"Ashland is a street. Look at my badge."

Dean picked up her badge and started nodding. "That's the best lead we've had so far." He slid the pad of paper back toward his side of the table and began writing again. "Can you get this to Sam?"

"I'm technically his lawyer too."

"That's terrifying if you think about it."

"Funny." Elle's response was rather dry which made Dean chuckle before he folded the note and passed it over to Elle. She grabbed it and was about to put it in her pocket when Dean interrupted her.

"You can look at it, you know."

Elle slowly nodded her head before she opened the letter. HILTS-IT'S A STREET ASHLAND-MCQUEEN. She knew exactly what the note meant-it was addressed to Sam, meaning that Sam was supposed to escape and Dean was going to be the distraction so that eyes were no longer on Sam. The words "What about you?" flew out of Elle's mouth without any thought.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, I'm kinda cuffed here."

Elle rolled her eyes at his sarcasm before she gathered her files and headed for the door. She suddenly stopped in her tracks and turned to look at her brother. Judging by the expression on his face, he was going to do something stupid. Elle sighed, "I would tell you not to do something stupid; but we both know that's not going to happen. So, instead, I'll leave you with be careful." Dean gave her a smirk and a small salute before she let the door close behind her and she walked to Sam's interrogation room.

Rather awkwardly, Elle stood outside the door to Sam's interrogation room for a moment. She let a puff of breath escape her mouth before she adjusted the stiff clothing she was wearing. After rapping on the door twice in quick succession, Elle walked into the room to find her brother looking at her like he had seen a ghost before a slight scowl overtook his face. "You hung up."

"As your public defender, Elle Woods, I must say that I have no idea what you're talking about," Elle retorted.

"Elle Woods? Isn't that from that one chick flick? Legally Blonde, I think."

"Yeah, but how do you know about it?"

"Jess made me watch the movie in preparation for my LSATs." Sam offered a slight smile at the memory before he returned his glance to his sister.

"Which reminds me, I totally kicked your ass on the LSATs, by the way. That's all that really matters."

"So what are you doing here?"

"You mean aside from the fact a grumpy old hunter drove me here against my will? Trying to save your ass."

"Speaking of, what the hell are you doing with Greyson."

"Like you don't already know. I know you've talked to Ash."

"I haven't had time to talk to Ash. I've been rather busy."

"Oh, right. Just forget I said anything."

"Elle, why is Ash calling me?"

"Doesn't really matter. What matters is this." Elle slid the piece of paper Dean had written on across the table to Sam. Elle finally sat down on the chair across from Sam and pulled the file back out as Sam read the note from Dean. "You know, this lawyer thing really sucks. It makes my feet hurt. I don't know what you found appealing about it."

"The saving people part," Sam responded without even looking up from the note.

"There are plenty of other better jobs where you can get the same kick. Like being a lifeguard."

"Says the twenty-two year old who can't swim." Elle didn't have time to come up with some witty retort fast enough because two detectives walked into the interrogation room. They introduced themselves as Ballard and Sheridan as Elle was about to reprimand them for ignoring client confidentiality...or something like that, when she was cut off.

"Ms. Woods, we need you with the other one," Detective Ballard, a rather attractive thirty-something woman, said holding onto the door. The male detective stood rather close to the woman. He was definitely invading personal space, meaning that something was probably going on between the two of them.

"He's done something stupid, hasn't he?" Elle muttered shaking her head.

"Ma'am, your boy decided to confess," Detective Sheridan, a somewhat snide looking man, responded. "Let's go. I want to get this paperwork done so we can get this bastard extradited as quickly as possible."

"You call me ma'am again and he won't be the only one confessing to murder," Elle said under her breath once again.

"Excuse me, what was that?"

"Nothing." Elle offered the man a fake smile before she closed the manilla folder once again and stood up. She wobbled a bit back and forth on her high heels before she walked behind the detectives toward the door. When she was almost to the door, Elle stopped and turned back to look at Sam who nodded his head. Elle nodded her head back. "If anyone wanted to find some stuff, all they'd have to do would be to follow the spiders. That'd lead 'em right. That's all I'm saying."

"What?" Sheridan said turning his head back toward Elle with a quizzical expression on his face.

"Seriously? Harry Potter? Don't tell me you've never heard of Harry Potter?" Elle's expression was almost dumbstruck at the detective who shook his head. He shook his head before he motioned with his hand for Elle to continue following. She looked toward her brother once again and shrugged before she followed behind the detectives to Dean's interrogation room.

Sheridan leaned close to Ballard and whispered to her,"I swear these guys keep getting younger and younger."

"Or we keep getting older," Ballard offered looking back at Elle who simply offered an obviously fake smile because she had heard the exchange. The lady detective then turned forward again and whispered to her partner. "How old does she look to you?"

Sheridan turned around and looked at Elle from head to toe before whispering to Ballard, "Twelve; but she looks older than the last guy."

"True."

"I can hear you, you know," Elle commented childishly swinging the briefcase she was carrying. "I may be young, but I'm not deaf and I happen to be a pretty good lip reader." Sheridan and Ballard looked to each other slightly in shock but their walking came to a stop outside Dean's interrogation room. Elle started to turn away. "You know, I think I left something in the car…"

"Not so fast, Ms. Woods, you can get it after your boy confesses," Sheridan stated sternly causing Elle to stop in her tracks. In the heels she was wearing, her ankle rolled a bit causing her to cringe in pain before she followed after the detectives into the interrogation room. As Elle limped into the room, she could see that there was a video camera already set up to record Dean's so-called confession. Elle wasn't entirely sure what Dean was going to confess to; but as she had predicted he was going to do something stupid.

"Well, well, if it isn't my wonderful lawyer," Dean stated sarcastically.

"Then I suppose as your lawyer, I should advise you against doing what you're doing," Elle retorted.

Dean just smirked in her direction and winked at his lawyer, who was leaning against the wall beside the door, before Sheridan started finagling with the video camera to make sure it was at a good angle to record. The male detective then told Dean to speak talking directly into the camera and that he should state his name first and then give as detailed a confession as he possibly could. Dean nodded his head with a slight smile on his face causing Elle to try to cover her face with her hands as she shook it from side to side.

"My name is Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women. My hobbies in include: hunting, pool, and saving my little sister's ass." Elle narrowed her eyes at the last comment and she could hear whispers going about the interrogation room that he didn't have a little sister. They obviously couldn't handle the truth. Hell, Elle could barely handle the truth. But Dean wasn't done with his truth-telling. "And I did not kill anyone. But I know who did...or rather, what did. Of course, I can't be for sure because our investigation was interrupted. Now our working theory was that we're looking for some kind of vengeful spirit."

Elle rolled her eyes at Dean's confession. He was sure killing it. She had to admit that she was curious to see how he would continue but she would never get to see it because there came a knock at the door. Sheridan opened the door to reveal an older gentleman with greying hair and a cheap suit standing outside the door. "I'm here to represent Mr. Winchester."

"Your office already sent someone over, Mr. Klaus," Sheridan said pointing toward Elle.

"She doesn't work at my office."

Shit. She had been made. Everything seemed to stand still for a split second giving Elle enough time to move toward the exit-toward Sheridan. "Normally, I'd apologize beforehand, but I really don't like you." Sheridan cocked his head in slight confusion before Elle decked him in the balls with the briefcase she was carrying. Elle hit him so hard that he actually fell backward onto Mr. Klaus, the lawyer, causing them both to crash to the floor. Now, she had to make a run for it; but there were shouts of intruder as she started running down the hallway...in heels. A big, burly police officer came barrelling toward her, but Elle kicked one shoe in his direction, nailing him in the head. Damn. She was two for two. She continued to run awkwardly with one shoe on until she came to the stairwell. Wedging the heel of the shoe under the door and the sole against the frame, she hoped that trick would at least hold them off for a few moments to get a headstart down the stairs. To hell with those uncomfortable shoes anyway.

Barefoot and almost out of breath, Elle ran down the cement staircase, which was thankfully empty. When she emerged from the stairwell, there were officers waiting for her. Despite the fact that she was in a skirt, Elle went in for what looked like a slide tackle as she slid through legs of the first officer. The second tried to follow her through the first guy's legs; but this only caused the guy standing to fall onto the officer trying to crawl through his legs. Surprised that actually worked, Elle started to run again. She rounded the corner and the front door was in her sights, but she knew that was what they would be expecting her to do. Instead, she ran into the women's restroom and slightly fumbled to lock the door behind her. When she turned around, there was a pretty blonde woman in her late twenties, early thirties watching her with round eyes.

"They let the son-of-a-bitch out," Elle said out of breath, she tried to force the tears which started welling in her eyes. "He's waiting for me."

"Is he the one that did that to you?" the woman questioned. Elle quickly glanced in the mirror to see that the woman was referring to her scars. The Winchester girl slowly nodded her head and sniffled. "We'll sneak you out the window and act like this never happened."

Elle breathed a sigh of relief and thanked the woman who then helped boost her up to the window. Elle unhatched the window and pushed it open, before she swung one leg over the ledge and sat there for a moment, checking outside to make sure there was no one waiting for her. She was just about to jump when the woman made a gesture that surprised her. The woman handed Elle a credit card, "You have one hour until I cancel the card." Elle looked at the woman with a puzzled expression. "I've been where you've are. Now go. Get some new clothes and get the hell out of here."

After accepting the credit card, Elle jumped out the window, landing hard on the asphalt. She didn't not a have a good gymnast landing and instead, her legs gave way causing her to fall flat on her ass. Groaning, Elle pushed herself back into a standing position and started running once more. She hated running. Running the mile for gym class in middle school and high school had been pure torture. Although, one year, John had decided to uproot them the day she was supposed to run it. But right now, she needed to focus on running from the police, on finding Sam and Greyson, and eventually getting the hell out of Baltimore.

Not wanting to take the chance of the police being close on her trail, Elle decided to head for a crowded, public place: the mall. She could easily get lost in the crowd there, especially once she changed clothes. Besides, the somewhere in the mall, a phonebook had to exist. That was how she was going to find Sam and Greyson. Sam would make sure to stick to their plan of going to the first motel in the yellow pages under the name Jim Rockford. It was their thing if they ever got split up and despite the fact that Greyson might not like it, she was pretty positive that Sam would win out.

Once she found the mall, she bought a black baseball cap, jeans, Christmas socks, a new pair of grey Converse sneakers, and a grey Jack Skellington hoodie sweatshirt. She pulled her hair down so that it hung in waves. She didn't look nearly as stiff as she had in the police station. After buying some food from Church's Chicken, Elle trashed the credit card and walked to find a phonebook as she ate her crispy chicken sandwich. She found one hanging from a cubicle where a payphone used to exist. It couldn't hurt to look through it. Elle thumbed through the book until she came to the listing for motels. The first one was Abernathy's Motel which looked to be about five miles from the mall. Not wanting to walk that far, Elle stole a bike from the bike rack that wasn't locked to it. It would be faster than walking, but it had been a long time since she had ridden a bike.

By the time Elle reached Abernathy's Motel, she was out of breath from the bike ride. Basically, she hated anything that had to do with exercising. Exorcising on the other hand was much less physically demanding. After a bit of sweet-talking the manager, Elle finally knocked on the door of Jim Rockford and Greyson opened the door. "Took you long enough."

"I was made," Elle hissed as she slunk past Greyson into the room to find Sam on his computer at the table. Sam looked up from his computer and at his sister before shaking his head.

"You literally meant follow the spiders," Sam said holding up a handful of plastic spider rings. Elle smirked for a moment. She had gotten those at the store and had dropped them like breadcrumbs from Greyson's Jeep to the police station.

"Why couldn't it have been follow the butterflies?" Elle said in a fake British accent before continuing normally. "Well, I'll tell you why. It's almost Halloween and these suckers were cheap." She walked over and plucked a spider ring from Sam's hand before putting it on her ring finger on her right hand.

"I see you two seem to be doing better," Greyson commented.

Elle's rather happy expression faded into a scowl. "No, no we're not."

"So much for a happy reunion."

Elle rolled her eyes and walked across the out-dated before belly-flopping onto the closest bed. She lay there for a moment before another knock came at the door. Could that really be Dean? So soon? Elle muttered Dean as Greyson got up to answer the door. "Not Dean," the man responded.

"I'm looking for Sam Winchester, I was told he would be here," the female detective from the station voice spoke from the other side of the door. Elle's eyes widened as she moved to run for the bathroom to hide, but then the detective continued. "I'm not here to arrest him...yet. I-I think I need his help."

"Let her in," Sam said as he got up and walked over to the door.

Greyson muttered something about it being a stupid idea as Detective Ballard crossed the threshold. "I was talking with Dean. He thinks this might be your kind of thing. Whatever the hell that means." She took a few steps toward Sam when she caught sight of Elle and stopped in her tracks. "You, you're in on all this? How?"

"She's our sister."

"There's no record of a sister."

"According to your systems, I don't exist. I don't have a birth certificate, because I wasn't exactly born," Elle said moving into a cross-legged position on the bed. "I was born about seven months after my mom died in a fire."

"That makes no sense."

"Welcome to my life. Nothing about it makes sense."

"I think what Elle means to say is how can we help you?" Sam sighed.

"No, not even close." Sam shot her a look of disgust to which she responded with an eye roll before she stood up. "Whatever." She then looked at Greyson. "Where's my stuff?"

Greyson pointed to a corner and Elle got up, grabbed her shoulder bag and walked into the bathroom. She dumped the contents of her shoulder bag onto the counter as she frantically searched for her Vicodin bottle. It wasn't in the mess on the counter. No, it wasn't in the mess of her sketchbook, pencils, pens, tampons, candy wrappers, among other things. There was only one explanation. She was about to go yell at Greyson when her hand reached into a side pocket. It was there. God, she was getting paranoid. What if Greyson had already told Sam? Elle slumped onto the closed toilet and ran her fingers through her hair. It would almost be easier just to get her pill popping out in the open, rather than live in constant fear; but she didn't want to face the aftermath of when her brothers found out.

When Elle opened her eyes, her vision was blurry, but she still opened her bottle and popped another pill-hoping that it would help, despite it being the cause. She knocked it back without water, but after feeling what felt like a lump in her throat, Elle leaned under the sink and slurped up some water. All she wanted to do was go to sleep, but that probably wasn't going to happen with Detective Ballard in their midst. She also knew she couldn't stay in the bathroom too long without Sam getting suspicious. So, she shoved everything back in her shoulder bag and then walked back out into the room where Greyson and Sam were listening to Detective Ballard stumble over her words trying to explain what was happening, without wanting to admit what was actually going on. Sam was on his haunches in front of Ballard examining her wrists which seemed to have rope marks on them as Greyson watched while leaning against the wall.

"These showed up after you saw it?" Sam questioned. The detective offered a noncommittal response. "Well, you're going to have to tell us exactly what you saw."

"You know, I must be losing my mind," the woman responded. "You two are fugitives," she said looking between Sam and Elle. "But I should be arresting you both."

"Hey, don't forget about him," Elle said pointing toward Greyson.

"My record was expunged by my brother-in-law," Greyson shrugged. "They ain't got shit on me."

"You have a brother-in-law? Wait, you have a wife?"

"Used to, kid; but I think we have more pressing matters than my personal life." Greyson pointed to Detective Ballard who was looking rather pale.

"Tell you what," Sam said. "You can arrest all three of us later. But right now you gotta tell us what you saw if you want to live to arrest us." Ballard appeared to ponder Sam's proposition for a moment before she nodded her head. "Good. So, this spirit-what did she look like?"

"She was-uh-really pale. Her throat it was-uh-it was cut. And those eyes-they were like this deep dark red? Red eyes? I sound crazy," Ballard shook her head, but Sam told her to keep going. "It appeared like she was trying to talk to me, but she couldn't. It was just...a lot of blood."

"You know what, I've been researching every girl that's ever died or gone missing from Ashland Street. Elle can you grab my research." Sam looked over to Elle who nodded her head before she walked over to the table and fathered a stack of crime scene photos and police records. She then walked them back to Sam and handed them over.

"You're not crazy, by the way," Elle said as she sat down on the bed beside the detective as Sam fumbled through some of the papers before he handed them over to the detective.

"How'd you get these?" Ballard questioned. Those are from crime scenes and booking photos."

"You have your job and we have ours," Sam said with a shrug.

"But I could do it without leaving a paper trail," Elle commented. Sam gave Elle a look, which she could easily interpret. "What? I can."

Sam shook his head. "We need you to look through these and tell us if you recognize any of them."

Ballard flipped through the photos and Elle looked over the woman's shoulder. The detective came to a stop at the third photo, a young woman's booking photo. Elle squinted her eyes to see that the girl's name was Claire Becker. Claire was twenty-eight and according to Ballard, the woman had disappeared eight or nine months ago.

"This doesn't make sense. I don't even know her. I mean, why come after me?" Ballard questioned.

Elle snatched the paper away from Ballard. "Sometimes it doesn't always make sense. But, it says here that she was arrested twice for dealing heroin. Maybe you crossed paths somehow. Ever work Narcotics?" Greyson coughed purposefully, causing Elle to look up at him and glare for a moment before Ballard responded.

"Pete and I worked Narcotics before Homicide."

"Maybe you busted her," Sam suggested.

"Not that I remember."

"And her name would be on the report, genius," Elle said sarcastically.

Sam rolled his eyes before snatching the report back from Elle. After glancing at it for a moment, he started to speak once again."It says that she was last seen entering 2911 Ashland Street. Police searched the place, but they didn't find anything. Guess we're gonna have to go check it out for ourselves."

"Why?" Ballard asked.

"To see if we can find the body," Greyson finally chimed in as he sat down on a chair beside the table before kicking his boots off his feet and rested them on the table . "It's kinda how the whole thing works."

"What whole thing?"

"Well, we gotta salt and burn her bones. It's the only way to put her spirit at rest," Sam offered.

"Of course it is."

"You kids have fun, I'm staying here," Greyson said putting his hands behind his head and leaning back in the chair. "Gonna catch me some z's."

"You're kidding, right?" Elle questioned.

"You kids need to work your shit out. Besides, you know how to get ahold of me if you need me."

"And how are we supposed to get there?"

"I drove here," Ballard offered.

"Shotgun."

"But I-" Sam started. "You never…C'mon, Elle, my legs are longer."

"Life's a bitch when you leave your sister without telling her."

"Elle!"

"I'm not talking to you!"

"I'm sensing some tension," Ballard said looking between Sam and Elle apprehensively.

"They just need to work it out," Greyson said with his eyes closed. "Or kill each other. I'd hope for the former if I were you, lady."

Detective Ballard shifted uncomfortably before she cleared her throat and reached to grab her car keys from her pocket. She jingled them signaling Sam and Elle to follow close behind. Elle made sure to grab her shoulder bag before she left, but Greyson gave her a knowing look as she walked past him, trying to ignore his glances. True to her word, Elle took the front seat, forcing Sam to cram into the back. She stared straight ahead as Sam muttered to himself about being stuck in the back while Ballard put the key in the ignition before they pulled out of the parking lot.

No attempts at conversation were made as Ballard drove them. The only sounds came from the police scanner, but even the chatter seemed to be low. Elle watched out the window into the darkness and stared up toward the sky. The stars that had once always seemed so close suddenly seemed so cold and distant. With a sigh, Elle ran her fingers through her hair and readjusted her baseball cap as Ballard pulled into a gravel lot of a warehouse. Elle's heart thudded as her mind immediately raced back to the night she had spent in the warehouse with her father and the Yellow Eyed Demon. If only she had listened to that voice-maybe she'd be happy. Tears stung at her eyes as she steadied her breathing and stepped out of the car. She followed behind Sam and Ballard into the dark and creepy warehouse. Elle pulled her gun out of her shoulder bag and Ballard looked at her with a terrified expression on her face.

"It has salt rounds," Elle commented.

"Why salt?" Ballard asked.

"Because it ionizes the makeup of the spirit causing a chemical reaction and the spirit will take on a different chemical identity making them easier to put to rest."

"Really?"

"No, Elle's being a smartass," Sam commented as he pulled the door to the warehouse open. "But salt is useful when dealing with these things to protect yourself or to purify the remains."

The trio walked into the building, Elle with her gun at the ready. It was just as bad in the inside as it looked on the outside. Then again, it always was and Elle made that very point. "They always live up to the stereotype. You know, for once, I'd like to have a case at Disneyland, not some creepy, abandoned, dilapidated building."

"I always thought the White House would be cool too."

Elle looked over to her brother who was not really paying her any attention as he used his flashlight to somewhat scope out the place. But Elle remained in her immaturity, "I'm still not talking to you."

"I don't mean to pry, but what's going on between the two of you," Ballard questioned.

"Nothing," Sam and Elle offered simultaneously.

"Ok then. So what exactly are we looking for?"

"We'll let you know when we find it. Elle you go with her and check this level. I'm gonna go upstairs," Sam said sternly. She wanted to argue with her brother simply to argue with him, but it wasn't really a good time. Instead, she just sighed and nodded her head. "We'll meet back up right here in fifteen."

Ballard and Elle continued walking through the lower level of the warehouse. Elle carefully walked with her gun raised and Ballard held the flashlight up. "So, Elle is it?" Ballard questioned and Elle nodded her head. "How long have you been doing this?"

"My whole life," Elle responded. "This life is all I've ever known-I mean, aside from the few months I spent working at a roadhouse in Nebraska, but even then, I've never fully been out."

"College?"

"No. I wanted to though. Sam went to college and I almost went with him, but I just couldn't do it. I couldn't leave Dean alone...with my dad."

"And your dad?"

"Dead."

"I'm sorry."

"It's the life-our life expectancy is a little lower than an innocent's."

"That doesn't seem like much of a life."

"Well, someone's got to keep the people safe, right? You keep people safe from the evil they can see and we keep them safe from the evil they think is only found in stories." Elle suddenly stops. "Is it just me or is it a little chilly in here?"

Elle exhaled a puff into the air, seeing it in front of her. It was definitely colder than the rest of the building had been. She was about to say something when Ballard screamed. Elle turned toward the window to see what the detective was looking at. Elle didn't see anything. She looked at Ballard with a puzzled expression on her face when the detective grabbed the gun out of her hand and started shooting at what appeared to be nothing. Elle slowly backed away from the detective who had stopped shooting.

"Didn't you see her?" Ballard questioned, still holding the gun.

"I didn't see anything," Elle commented with her hands raised as if she were surrendering.

"She was right there!" Ballard pointed toward a shelving unit with the gun. Elle just nodded her head in agreement, not wanting to get shot. She walked over to the detective with her hand outstretched for the woman to put the gun back in her hand. Rather reluctantly Ballard placed the gun back in Elle's hands as the sound of running footsteps seemed to get closer and closer.

"Hey! What the hell happened?" Sam asked as he rounded the corner to where they were.

"Ask Detective Shootypants over there," Elle said folding her arms across her chest. Sam gave Elle a disappointed glance before he looked over to Ballard.

"It was Claire," Ballard said between breaths. "She was right there."

"Did she attack you?" Sam questioned.

"Well, no; but she was like, reaching out to me." Sam looked over to Elle.

"What? I didn't see anything," Elle spoke with a shrug of her shoulders as Ballard walked closer to the shelving units. The detective pushed the shelving away from the windows, causing a window to be revealed and the street light shone through the window reflecting the words onto the wall opposite the window.

"Our little mystery word," Ballard stated.

"Now the extra letters make sense," Sam commented. "At least we know we're in the right place."

Elle curiously pulled her EMF meter out of her shoulder bag before she started walking toward the wall where the letters were being reflected.

"What is that? An old cassette tape player?" Ballard questioned.

"It used to be. Not anymore," Elle responded as she slowly inched forward.

If meter purred, then Elle had an idea of what they were up against-especially given the fact that she couldn't see whatever Ballard apparently saw. She just hoped she was wrong, because if she was right-the fact that she couldn't see it wouldn't be in her favor. Elle listened as Sam explained that spirits remains gave off electromagnetic frequencies. So Ballard understood that if Claire's body was there, in theory, it should give off some sort of signal. The meter began purring almost before Elle reached the wall.

"Shit," Elle groaned. "We literally hit a brick wall."

"I think I saw a sledgehammer in the corner," Sam stated.

Elle muttered to herself about having to everything herself as she marched to the corner of the room in search of the supposed sledgehammer as Sam talked with Ballard. Sam was right, there was a sledgehammer in the corner, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was that it weighed too much for Elle to lift. She tried half a dozen times to lift the stupid thing, but she couldn't get it. She looked over her shoulder to see if Sam was going to come to her assistance, but he wasn't paying her any attention. Gritting her teeth and setting her face with a scowl, Elle wrapped her hands around the handle of the sledgehammer and started dragging it across the floor. Scraping sounds echoed through the room as Elle dragged the heavy object across the floor. Sam turned to see his little sister and her pissed off expression and he couldn't help but chuckle.

"You're a badass," Sam coughed to cover his laughter.

"Shut up. If I could pick up this sledgehammer I'd hit you with it right now," Elle grunted as she continued to drag the blasted thing. "Oh. My. God. Why do they make these things so heavy?" Sam came over and he easily picked the thing up. Elle stood there with her mouth gaping. "You must be worthy. That sledgehammer's got to have an Arthur and Excalibur thing, right? Or maybe Thor and Mjolnir?"

"Uh-sure. We'll go with that and not the fact that you have no upper body strength."

"I hate you."

Sam smirked at his sister who stood there with her arms folded across her chest before he swung at the brick wall. Elle rolled her eyes at the fact he made busting walls down look easy and the fact she couldn't even pick the stupid sledgehammer up. After several swings, there was a sizable enough hole for Sam to poke the light of his flashlight in so he could have a look around inside.

"Yeah, there's definitely something in there," Sam said before he started pulling some of the bricks down. Elle walked over and started helping him pull the bricks down while Ballard stood there rather stiffly with her lips pursed. "You know, this is bothering me."

"Well, you two are digging up a corpse," Ballard offered.

"Comes in the job description," Elle retorted.

"Then what?"

"It's just-I mean, no vengeful spirit I've ever tussled with, wanted to be wasted. So why the hell would Claire lead us to her remains? It doesn't make any sense," Sam responded.

"I have a theory on that," Elle grunted as she pulled hard on a brick. "It would also explain why I couldn't see her. Claire's a death omen."

"That would make sense. Only those who are in imminent danger or on a hit list of sorts see them. Sometimes, they're geared to only specific people."

"But then we still have to answer the question whose hit list." Elle stopped yanking bricks for a moment to catch her breath and to wipe some dust from her face, but she only made it worse-smudging dust all over her face.

"Elle, give me a hand for a second."

"What do you think I've been doing?"

"Not with the wall, with the thing inside the wall." Sam looked a little irritated at his sister as she mouthed the word oh.

Together, the younger Winchester siblings pulled the wrapped body out of the wall. The pungent smell of death stung at Elle's nostrils. That wasn't a smell one got used to. It was a smell that seemed to linger; but she supposed it was a hazard of the job. Elle and Sam gently set the wrapped body on the cold cement floor before Sam pulled out his pocket knife and started cutting at the ropes tied around the body. Elle gently uncovered the body as Ballard got down on her haunches beside the two Winchesters. Noticing the ropes binding the corpse's wrists, Ballard held out her own wrists with unexplainable rope marks. Sam looked to Elle and they both nodded their heads. So far everything seemed to be adding up. But they seemed to make more sense when Ballard reached for the necklace on the corpse cautiously. She touched it but then immediately recoiled.

"Is the necklace significant?" Elle asked.

"You could say that," Ballard responded. "I've seen it before. It's rare. It was custom made over on Carson Street." The detective reached toward her neckline before pulling a necklace identical to the one on the corpse out from underneath her shirt. "I have one just like it. Pete gave it to me."

"Everything makes perfect sense now," Sam sighed. "Elle was right. Claire's a death omen."

"Excuse me? Can you say that again. I must not have had my hearing aids turned up," Elle remarked snidely.

"You were right. About it all. What more do you want?"

"I would like to know what the hell is going on," Ballard interrupted.

"Death omens don't kill," Elle began explaining.

"And since Claire's not killing anyone, it means she's trying to warn ya'll. You see, sometimes spirits don't want vengeance-they want justice," Sam added.

"Just like some of the rest of us."

"God, Elle-I'm gonna ignore that for now. So anyway, that's why Claire led us here in the first place. She wants us to know who her killer is."

"Which leads to the logical conclusion-how much do you know about your partner, Detective?"

At first Detective Ballard looked a little puzzled, but then her eyes widened in horror as she put the pieces together in her head. "Oh, my god."

"What?" Sam and Elle asked in unison.

"About a year ago, some heroin went missing from lockup. Obviously it was a cop, but we never found out who did it. But whoever did it would need someone to fence their product."

"Someone like a heroin dealer," Sam stated.

"Somebody like Claire," Elle added.

"Damnit," Ballard groaned. "I honestly thought he was one of the good ones. Boy, do I sure know how to pick 'em." Sam and Elle wisely said nothing. "I've gotta phone this in. Let's go." Ballard began walking at a quick pace toward the door, leaving Sam and Elle standing there for a moment.

"Are you going to be arresting us?" Elle asked rather loudly, still standing beside the corpse.

"Elle," Sam hissed, smacking her arm. "Really?"

"What? I'd like to know if I have to make a break for it before I get in her car, thank you very much."

"C'mon."

Elle reluctantly followed behind Sam out to Ballard's car. She called shotgun again once they got outside; but this time it wasn't to piss Sam off. It was because she didn't want to take the chance of child safety locks in the back.

So, Elle slipped into the front seat as Detective Ballard pulled her phone out of her pocket. She dialed the station's number and then rested her phone between her ear and shoulder as she put the car in drive. Elle looked back at Sam and gave him a look of terror, but he just shook his head at her antics. Ballard turned onto the highway, still on the phone with the precinct. Judging from the little they had overheard, there seemed to be a wrench in the works. This was confirmed when Ballard hung up her cellphone.

"What's going on?" Sam asked.

"Pete just left the precinct...with Dean," Ballard responded.

"What?"

"Shit," Elle groaned.

"Yeah, well, he said the prisoner had to be transferred and he just took him. Dispatch has been calling but he won't answer his radio," Ballard added.

"I knew there was a reason I didn't like him. What a piece of shit. Hang on-you don't think…he'd try to kill Dean would you?"

"An hour ago I wouldn't have believed it; but knowing what he did to poor Claire-I'd say there's a strong possibility."

"I mean don't get me wrong-I'm pissed at him, but I don't want him to die. I'm the only one who gets to kill Dean."

"Well, then we gotta find them. They could be anywhere from here to St. Louis-literally."

"You said that they couldn't reach him on radio?" Sam asked. "He took a county vehicle?"

"Yeah."

"Well, then they should have a lo-jack. You've just gotta get it turned on."

"I'll make a call."

Ballard pulled her phone out again and called the precinct to get the lo-jack turned on. The detective's foot pressed heavily against the gas pedal while Elle pulled out her own phone. If there was ever a time they needed Greyson, this was probably it. It rang five times and then it went to voicemail and Greyson's voice gruffly spoke, "You should know who you called. If it's me you want, try not to want me. If this is a prank, hang the fuck up before I come and hunt your ass down. I have equipment to locate your stupid ass and I will not hesitate to use it."

Beep. "I-uh-your voicemail greeting is a little harsh, isn't it? But you need to pick up your damn phone. Dean's in trouble. Call me back." Elle pressed the end call button on her phone before she immediately called again. "Hey, me again. Why aren't you answering your phone? You're the reason I'm even here, so answer your freaking phone." She hung up again and called a third time. "You know what, Greyson? Screw you. I mean, I'm not literally going to screw you, because that would be disgusting. But shit-you're a freaking asshole."

Ballard did a quick U-turn causing Elle's head to slam into the window. It didn't break or anything, but it still hurt like hell. Not wanting to deal with it, Elle reached down for her bag and set it on her lap, slightly turning her back from Ballard and her brother. As sneakily as she could, she pulled out a Vicodin, popped it into her mouth and swallowed hard. She then closed her eyes, leaned back against the seat, and tried to focus on something other than her pain or Dean; but she couldn't do it. Her mind began to race. What if Dean was dead? What if he was dead and the last thing she did to him was act like a complete bitch? Tears pricked at her eyes, what if the situation ended somewhat like things had gone with her father? She opened her eye and looked heavenward. She wasn't sure if there really was anyone upstairs; but she had to try to make a bargain. She promised that if they could find Dean safe and sound that she would come clean.

Suddenly feeling rather carsick, vomit seemed to crawl up Elle's throat, "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Sam, there's a plastic bag somewhere back there," Ballard said frantically as she continued to speed down the highway. Sam yanked a plastic bag from the floor and tossed it up front to Elle who barely held the puke long enough.

"She used to get carsick all the time as a kid," Sam chuckled softly. "There was one time she was sleeping on Dean in the back when Dad was driving and she puked on him in her sleep."

"Dad was so pissed," Elle groaned as she tied the plastic bag. She sat back once more with her eyes closed as Ballard drove for several more minutes before the phone started to ring. It was Ballard's phone. The Winchesters tried to piece together the conversation on what they heard Ballard saying, but neither of them could really decipher a whole lot.

When she hung the phone up, Ballard spoke again,"They shouldn't be much farther. Dispatch says that the vehicle came to a stop up ahead."

About a mile later, the detective pulled the car down an abandoned service road before turning the car lights off so, they could have the element of surprise. When the light from the county vehicle was visible, Ballard parked the car. The unlikely trio walked out of the car. Ballard had her police-issued gun at the ready and Elle had her salt-round loaded gun in her back pocket, while Sam followed behind. As they approached the scene, Dean was on the ground in a pile of leaves as Sheridan cocked his gun that was aimed at the oldest Winchester.

"Pete, put the gun down!" Ballard called.

"Diana? How-How'd you find me?" Sheridan's eyes widened as he saw Diana.

"Feeling threatened, Pete?" Ballard took a step closer. "Maybe you're feeling a little how Claire felt. Yeah, I know all about Claire."

"I don't know what you're talking about. You've gone crazy-accusing me of god-knows-what and consorting with two fugitives. I'm going to have to take care of this."

"Put the gun down!"

"You know what? I don't think so. You're fast, but I'm pretty sure I'm faster even than both of you."

Elle quickly grabbed her gun and fired a salt-round, purposely missing him. He shouted an obscenity as Elle cocked her head to the right. "Yeah, I wouldn't count on that. You have a really pissed-off sister who knows how to shoot."

"Elle, drop it," Ballard said, still pointing her gun at Sheridan. "I can handle this." Rather reluctantly, Elle dropped her gun to the ground, but she purposely threw it out a ways. Partly, so that they would think she wouldn't grab it-but then so Dean might.

"I didn't do anything, Diana. I swear," Sheridan pleaded as Dean slowly inched toward the gun. "I'm not the enemy here-they are. Come to your senses, please?"

"It's a little late for that."

Sheridan ran his fingers through his hair with one hand, while still holding onto the gun with his other hand. "It wasn't my fault. Claire was trying to turn me in. I had no choice."

"And Tony? Karen?"

"Same thing! Tony scrubbed the money. He got skittish and then he wanted to come clean. I'm sure he told Karen everything. It was a mess. I had to clean it up. I-I just panicked."

"How many more people are gonna die over this, Pete?"

"There's a way out. This Dean kid's a friggin' gift. We could pin the whole thing on him. Right? No trial, no nothing. Just one more dead scumbag."

"Hey!" Dean scoffed.

"But he's my scumbag," Elle countered. "And no one gets to kill him but me."

"You want a way out of this? Then pick up your gun and do it," Sheridan hissed. "No funny business, though." He nodded his head toward the gun for Elle to pick up before he aimed his weapon at the youngest Winchester. She slowly crawled across the leaves and slowly wrapped her hand around the gun. "Stand." Elle slowly stood and pointed her gun at Dean. Knowing that Elle's gun was filled with salt-rounds, Ballard didn't do anything to try and stop her-which Pete took as her approval. "No one will question it, Diana. Thank you-I still love you." Sheridan then cocked his gun toward Elle. "Go on, now."

"Elle," Dean struggled to get out. "Just-just do as the man says. There's no sense in all of us going down."

Elle opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn't. She could see how much Dean was actually struggling with this. Was he really expecting her to kill him? Elle growled a bit before shaking her head and looked over to Sheridan.

"You should listen to him," Sheridan scoffed.

"You really want me to kill him?" Elle questioned. "I mean, judging by your expression and the fact that your gun is aimed at me, yes, that is what you want me to do. So moment of honesty here-this is filled with salt-rounds, not bullets."

The sound of two firing guns rippled through the air. The first shot came from Ballard's gun and nailed Sheridan in the stomach causing him to fall to the ground. The second shot came from Sheridan's gun a split-second before he was hit and the bullet tore into the flesh in Elle's leg. Elle screamed in pain as she crashed to the hard cold ground. Dean rolled to his stomach and crawled over to the spot where his sister lay, holding her leg in pain. He cradled his little sister in his arms as she tried hard not to continue screaming.

From there, everything seemed to happen so quickly. Sam ran over to his siblings as Ballard took a few steps closer to Sheridan. The female detective spat at Sheridan before commenting that he should get her another necklace. At that point, Sheridan tackled Ballard's legs, knocking her to the ground and causing her gun to go flying. Sheridan's then eyed the Winchesters with a bloodlust in his eyes. Sam tried to go for the gun; but Sheridan beat him to it. Sheridan cocked the gun at Sam. The sound of a gunshot resounded through the air, but this time is was Ballard, with Sheridan's gun, who had made the shot. She shot Sheridan in the back and he went down, more permanently this time.

Sam walked over to talk to Ballard, who was obviously shaken as Dean sat there, continuing to hold Elle in his arms. "Why didn't you just shoot me?" Dean questioned.

"I wasn't sure you'd know to play dead," Elle hissed. "Beside, it would have been hell to see the smug-ass look on his face thinking he'd won."

"You still should have just shot me."

"I'll remember next time." Dean shook his head and Elle looked up at him. Part of her had wanted to get shot. Somewhere deep inside her, she had intentionally been reckless. But she could never admit that. She looked up to the starry sky. She knew she had made a deal-but she couldn't keep her end of it. Dean was safe, but it wasn't because God had intervened or caused it to be. So she didn't owe them anything.

"We gotta get the bullet out."

"You think?" Elle shifted uncomfortably as Dean stood up before he easily scooped his little sister up into his arms. Despite knowing that she was pissed off at him, she felt too tired to try and pick a fight. Instead, she just rested her head against her big brother's shoulder as he walked the two of them over to where Sam and Ballard stood.

"So, uh-what now officer?"

"Well, Pete did confess to me. He screwed up you boys' cases royally and he shot an innocent civilian. I'd say there's a good chance we could get your cases dismissed," Ballard mused. "But the St. Louis murder charges? That's another story. I can't help you-unless, I just happened to turn my back and you walked away. I could tell them that the suspects escaped. The only thing I don't like about that is leaving her. I can't take her in and tell them ya'll got away. It wouldn't make sense."

Just then Greyson's Jeep pulled up to the scene. He poked his head out the window and shouted, "What'd I miss?"

"I got shot," Elle muttered to him from Dean's arms. Greyson got out of the Jeep and started walking toward them.

"Of course you did. Why doesn't it surprise me that you went and did something stupid?"

"Hey, you watch how you talk to my sister," Dean hissed. Greyson cocked an eyebrow, clearly wanting to say something more; but he didn't. Dean sighed, "You got stuff to get her fixed up?"

Greyson nodded his head and held up a finger to give him a minute as he walked back to his Jeep. He came back with the essential tools to take a bullet out and sew the flesh back together again and a blanket to rest her on. Dean set Elle down on the blanket, but she getting very tired. Sam shone a flashlight so that Greyson could see what he was doing as Elle was leaned against Dean's knees and he held onto her arms. She screamed in pain as Greyson worked at her leg. Ballard stood off a distance pacing through the leaves. When she was all patched-up, Dean carried his sister over the Greyson's Jeep and set her in the passenger's seat.

"My bag," Elle groaned.

"I'll get it," Sam said as he walked over to Ballard's car. He pulls her bag from the floor of the front seat, not noticing that something fell from it. He walked back over to Greyson's Jeep and set the bag on Elle's lap. "Here you go."

Elle just nodded her head and Dean ruffled her hair. "We'll meet you back at the motel. Got a few things to wrap up here. Make sure she gets some rest." Greyson nodded his head as he slid onto the driver's side seat. He started the vehicle and pulled away from the Winchester boys to get Elle back to the motel. As they drove down the service road, neither looked back to see Sam pick up the pill bottle that had fallen from Elle's bag nor the puzzled expression on his face as he held it in his hands.

By the time Greyson and Elle pulled into the parking lot of Abernathy's motel, Elle was frantically searching through her bag. When they got inside the room, she dumped the contents onto the bed. "It's not in here," Elle muttered.

"What's not in there?" Greyson groaned from the other bed.

"My Vicodin. Where is it? What'd you do with it?"

"Whoa-easy now. I haven't touched your precious bag since I brought it in here hours ago."

"Meaning the only other person to touch my bag besides me was…"

"Sam." Greyson chuckled with his eyes closed and his arms behind his head. "Way to go on that one."

"Shit. He knows."

"'Bout damn time."

"You're not helping." Elle looked pointedly at Greyson who simply scoffed at her. "We can't stay here, you know."

"What do you mean we can't stay here? I'm tired as hell and I paid for the room. We're staying."

"Then I'm not staying. Not if my brothers know."

"You're out of control kid. You need help."

"No, I need to leave."

Greyson sat up and watched as Elle picked up her sketchbook. She pulled out one of her sketches, one of her and her brothers and scribbled a message on the back:

I'm sorry I left but by now you probably know why. Please don't try to find me. ~Elle

Elle set the paper down on her bed and began piling everything else into her bag. . Slowly, she limped across the room to grab her duffel bag and then she limped back to where her shoulder bag lay on her bed. She scanned across the room and the only thing she saw was Greyson, sitting up in bed, glaring at her. Elle turned for the door.

"You walk out that door right now, kid, and you'll be running from this your whole life, believe me. I watched my wife go down this path and I will not do it again with you. I will not watch you die just like she did because she took my daughter with her." Elle turned to look at him. The pain in his eyes was evident. "She was a hell of a hunter-just like you. You remind me so much of both of them, kid; but I can't do it again. I thought I could help you; but I can't."

Pain shot through Elle's leg and she closed her eyes for a moment. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, looking straight at Greyson. "Bye." With that, Elle hobbled out the door and shut it behind her. She closed her eyes once more and leaned against the door. Was she doing the right thing? Running? She felt like all she was good at these days was running; but she didn't really leave herself any other choice.

After offering the kid at the front desk $20, he agreed to go on break and drive her to the bus station. The ride there was rather awkward. She was still wearing the jeans she had gotten shot in and the bullet hole was easily visible. Elle tried to play it off like it was makeup or something; but the kid explained that he saw her limping. So, Elle offered him more money for a silent car ride. Down another $20, the boy finally dropped her off at the bus station. After changing her clothes once more and making sure her baseball cap was situated properly on her head, Elle pulled out her phone and made a call. After said phone call, Elle limped over to the ticket counter and purchased her ticket to get her the hell out of Dodge.


	31. CROATOAN

Elle's arm hung out the window, riding the waves of air as she sat in the passenger's seat of a beat-up red pickup truck that was headed north. She made sound effects to accompany her arm motions which annoyed the driver of the truck, Jo Harvelle. A little over a month ago, Elle had run from her brothers and Peter Greyson after a case in Baltimore. She had ended up traveling cross-country to Santa Barbara, California where she met up with Jo. Since then, they had been saving people and hunting things. There had been a rugaru in Tombstone, Arizona; a vengeful spirit in Overland Park, Kansas; and a kitsune in Boise, Idaho. Much to Elle's surprise, Sam and Dean didn't call or text her much anymore. Maybe they weren't as pissed about the fact that she was taking Vicodin as she thought they'd be. Maybe she had played-up an overreaction in her head for nothing. While she didn't seem to be getting many phone calls or texts, Jo sure seemed to be getting a bunch which annoyed the Harvelle girl to no end.

Looking over at Jo, Elle watched as the honey-haired girl drove with one hand, her other arm resting against the door as her head bobbed to the beat of the Journey song coming through the speakers. Jo looked over at Elle and gave a forced smile before her eyes focused once more on the road. "Tell me again, where are we going?" Elle questioned.

"River Grove. It's not too far from Portland," Jo responded.

"Why there?"

"Just because."

"You can't just because me. I'm your partner. You don't do that to your partner, Jo," Elle said grumpily. Not that Elle could be labeled the perfect partner since she was still attempting to hide her addiction.

Jo sighed and ran her fingers through her loose hair before speaking. "Tell you what, you give me thirty minutes without the annoying sound effects and I'll fill you in." Jo then smirked in Elle's direction to which the Winchester girl responded by rolling her eyes and folding her arms across her chest. Jo chuckled to herself as she turned up the volume for Faithfully.

To be honest, Jo was worried about explaining things to Elle. She was the reason Sam and Dean had backed off all the pressing phone calls and texts. Instead of calling Elle, they were calling her. She had to check in with them whenever they called, which was driving her insane. Sam and Dean both called her multiple times a day. She could understand them being pissed at or worried about their sister; but for goodness sake, couldn't they just call once a day? If it wasn't for the fact that Jo didn't want Elle running from her too-she would have come clean about the situation a long time ago. Instead, she wanted Elle to know that she was going to be there for her, all the while trying to wean the Winchester girl off her Vicodin. Although, that didn't seem to be doing anything. Elle always managed to get more and Jo couldn't quite figure out how. Elle Winchester was stubborn and eventually that was going to come back to kick the poor girl in the ass.

Jo's phone buzzed and Elle reached for it before Jo could grab it. There was a text message from Dean. Elle cocked her eyebrow and turned toward Jo. "Why is Dean texting you?"

"That's none of your business," Jo retorted, attempting to reach for her phone. "Elle, give it here. Now."

"Hands on the wheel," Elle snapped as she kept Jo's phone away from her. "And it is my business. He's my brother."

"Would you be doing this if it were Sam texting me?"

"You don't like Sam."

"Yes, I do."

"Not like that."

"There's nothing going on with me and Dean."

"Then why's he texting you?"

"Because we're meeting him in River Grove, damnit." There was an awkward moment of silence as Elle slowly turned her head toward Jo and stared at her, blinking slowly. Jo looked back at her for a moment before rolling her eyes and looking back at the road. "Oh, you heard me."

"Why? You know that I don't want to see them. You of all people know that I can't see them."

"Dean said it was important, Elle. He said it had something to do with Sam and a freaky dream or something. He said that it was important that you be there...that it was a family thing. Honestly, I have no idea why it's so important, but he said that you would get it."

Elle set her jaw before she sighed and dropped Jo's phone back onto the seat. She looked out the window, watching the scenery they were passing. "Yeah, I get it. But it doesn't mean that I like this."

"You don't like a lot of things." Jo chuckled at her own joke for a moment before she spoke again. "You have to stop running at some point, Elle. They're your family and in this line of work, that's about all that matters." Elle didn't say anything in response. She knew Jo was right and she knew she was acting hypocritical and childish, but she felt that she was too far in to change anything. She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration before she reached into her bag and mumbled something about needing an Advil when she grabbed a Vicodin and knocked it back. She was going to need it if she was about to take on the wrath of Sam and Dean.

When Jo's truck finally pulled into River Grove, Elle was asleep, practically drooling on the window. Jo knew Elle had to have popped back a Vicodin, but what the Harvelle girl couldn't figure out was where Elle was getting all the pills. She could have sworn that the two spent practically every waking minute together and Jo had searched all of Elle's bags; yet somehow Elle seemed to have a neverending supply. Jo had hoped that she could have weaned Elle off the Vicodin before she returned her to Sam and Dean, but that wasn't going to happen unless God existed and he could perform a miracle in the next couple of minutes. So basically, they were screwed. Jo just hoped that having her there would help keep Dean in line from completely reaming Elle a new one.

Jo parked the truck beside a sign for Crater Lake before she reached for her phone to give the boys a call, but she found that the damn thing didn't have a signal. Jo furrowed her brow before she stepped out of the truck to find a possible signal. Nothing. She smacked her phone against her hand hoping that maybe that would help, but still there was nothing. Thankfully, in the distance, she could see the Impala approaching.

As Jo leaned against her truck, the Impala parked. Jo looked into her truck to see that Elle was still sleeping, so to try and smooth matters a bit, the Harvelle girl walked to intercept the Winchester brothers.

"Where is she?" Dean hissed as he stepped out of the Impala. "Where's Elle?"

"Hold on just a second," Jo said holding her hand up to stop Dean. Her hand stopped on Dean's chest and the pair stood there for a moment. Dean then tried to sidestep Jo, but she intercepted him. "You can't just approach this with guns blazin'. That's the worst thing you could possibly do right now."

"It's how I do everything else, so let me go, Jo. She's my responsibility."

"Elle still needs more time."

"She's had over a month. I've let the two of you run around the country and play hunters...against my better judgment, mind you. I let you try it your way and that hasn't changed anything, now let me try it mine."

"She's terrified of your way, Dean. Hence all the running."

"Well, she should be scared. You can't just do shit and not expect to face the consequences."

"Dean, Elle has a lot on her shoulders."

"So do the rest of us. It's called life: you get shit on and then you deal with it. And if you're lucky you get it figured out before you get shit on again and buried under a mound of crap."

"Dean, maybe Jo's right," Sam grunted as he straightened his legs so that he was at his full height before he walked toward the pair. Jo hugged Sam before taking a step back again. "It's Elle, Dean. She's our sister.'"

"I know who she is. Don't you go soft on me now, Sammy. You've been just as pissed as I have been this past month."

"I'm still pissed, Dean; but she's our sister….our sister. What if Jo's right and we push her away even further?"

"What she needs is a friggin' wakeup call and I don't get why either of can't see that." Dean rubbed at his face in frustration, they didn't know what he knew. "Y'all aren't protecting her-you're just fueling the fire, feeding her addiction."

"She can hear you, you know," Elle said before she slammed the truck door closed. She stood there for a moment with her arms folded across her chest. Her brothers took notice that she looked thinner than the last time they saw her and that the circles under her eyes had darkened. Elle kicked at a rock on the road before she walked over to Jo and muttered. "I told you this was a bad idea."

"I told you calling her was a bad idea," Dean muttered to Sam.

"Dean," Sam scoffed.

The tension was undeniable as the four simply stood there unsure of how to proceed. Elle wasn't going to make the first move. Dean was too pissed to make the first move. Sam was too torn between his siblings to make the first move. So, it was Jo who rolled her eyes before she walked a few steps, to stand between the Winchester siblings before she spoke.

"Ok! Now, before this goes any farther, we're putting this whole situation on pause until we get the job done. Elle quit running. None of us are going anywhere….including you. Sam, that means not taking sides or pointing out how they're both in the wrong...acting all high and mighty. And Dean quit being a freaking ass. They're your family and you love them anyway. And from what I've heard, there's some freaky shit going on that requires all three of you," Jo said motioning to the three Winchesters. "Got it?" Sam raised his eyebrows, slightly terrified seeing how Jo now commanded the situation. Elle shifted uncomfortably with her arms folded across her chest. Dean just looked at Jo and Elle, who stood with a somewhat pissed-off expression on her face. Jo looked between the three siblings incredulously. "Well?"

"Yeah, got it," Sam was the first to answer. Then there was a long awkward silence as Elle and Dean stared each other down. Sam looked to Jo quickly before looking back to his siblings. "Guys?"

"I'm waitin' on her," Dean grunted.

"Real mature," Elle muttered.

"Well, you know me." His tone was sarcastic and the look on his face irritated Elle.

Elle rolled her eyes before responding, "Yeah, I do." She then took a step forward as to challenge him. "I also know that you'll never agree to the terms. You're too pissed to say yes."

"Well, you're too wasted on the Vicodin to know that you should say yes."

"Guys!" Sam and Jo shouted in unison. Their frustration was plainly written on their faces. Elle sighed and kicked at some dirt on the ground as Dean realized that Elle wasn't going to make a move before him.

"Fine," Dean grunted before he outstretched his right hand. "But if I'm gonna work with her, I'm gonna want something. Her pills. Hand 'em over."

"You can't just cut her off," Jo intervened before Elle could say anything. "She'd be useless to us detoxing."

"I'm not an idiot." Dean could have sworn he heard Elle mutter a sarcastic comment to the contrary, but he ignored his baby sister. "I want to regulate them. That's all." But there was a little more to Dean's plan than he let on.

Elle shook her head, no, but Jo sighed. "It's a sign of good faith, Elle."

In her heart, Elle knew that Jo was right; but her head told her that Dean was out to get her. She had no evidence to prove her claim, but it was how she felt. Elle ran her fingers through her hair, her hands shaking a bit. "I'm gonna want something in return," Elle finally said. "The keys to the Impala."

"No way in friggin' hell!" Dean shot out. "You don't even like to drive...not to mention that you can't reach the pedals!"

"I can reach the pedals!"

"Barely."

Elle set her jaw as she glared up at her brother. They really were getting nowhere arguing about whether or not she could reach the pedals. She sharply exhaled a breath before continuing."This is called collateral, Dean. Your keys for my pills."

"It's something you each need," Sam mused. "Seems fair enough."

"Stay out of this, Sammy," Elle and Dean groaned simultaneously much to their surprise. They looked to each other and they both smiled for a moment but Elle tore her gaze quickly away to the ground and Dean folded his arms over his chest.

Jo walked over to Elle. "Pills," the blonde stated. Elle stood there for a moment, not wanting to budge, but she knew that Jo wasn't going to give in on this. With a sigh, Elle walked back to the truck and pulled a bottle of Vicodin from her shoulder bag before she tossed the bottle at Jo. Jo then walked over to Dean. "Keys." Dean grumbled to himself as he walked back to the Impala and pulled the keys out of the ignition before he walked back and dropped them in Jo's hand. Jo then handed Dean Elle's pill bottle before she walked back to Elle and handed the girl Dean's keys. "There, we're all settled. Unless, I need to take something from you, Sam."

"Nope, I'm good," Sam said as he shoved his hands into his jeans pockets.

"Good. So, what now?"

"We work the case," Elle said as she shoved her hands in the front pocket of the grey hooded sweatshirt she was wearing. "How 'bout we split up. Jo and I…"

"Hang on," Sam said squinting his eyes at a man sitting across the street outside his house with a rifle. "That guy in the chair was there...in my dream. We should start with him and see what's what."

"How 'bout you two boys go visit him and Jo and I will…"

"No. Sam's got a point this time," Dean said. "We should all talk to the guy, so we're all on the same page. Probably stick together this whole case so we're all sure on what's what."

Elle's bottom lip jutted out a bit. She knew Dean was right, she just didn't want to admit it. So, with her hands still in her sweatshirt pocket, she walked toward Dean...and toward the man's house. "Fine," she muttered as she walked past him.

"Fine," Dean mocked in her tone as Jo walked by him, giving him a glare telling him to knock it off. Dean muttered under his breath as Jo followed behind Elle.

Sam and Dean then followed behind the girls. Sam smacked Dean in the arm. "This time?" Sam hissed.

"Yeah, I still don't think it was a good idea to involve her...especially if…you know." Dean looked to Sam to make sure his brother knew what he was talking about. Sam gave a quick nod before he sighed.

"All the more reason to have her here to change things, Dean. She's supposed to be here. It's fate."

"Well, fate sucks."

"Are you worried about her?" A faint smile played over Sam's face. He knew he had Dean, but he was waiting for his brother's response.

Dean exhaled a breath and shook his head. "She's my sister. I'm always worried about her. I just happen to be pissed off with her and worried about her at the same friggin' time." Sam chuckled under his breath as Dean jogged to catch up with the girls.

"Boys, this here is Mark," Jo introduced as Sam and Dean joined the girls. Sam and Dean both nodded in the man's direction as Elle tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Morning," the man said somewhat hesitantly. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, we think you can," Dean said before he pulled a badge from his jacket pocket. "Uh, Billy Gibbons," he said pointing to himself. "Frank Beard," he said pointing to Sam. "Dusty Hill," he said pointing to Jo. "And that one is-uhh-Billy Ethridge," Dean finished by pointing to Elle. Elle rolled her eyes at being referred to as one of the former members of the band he was referencing, but Dean still continued talking. "We're U.S. Marshals."

"You're both named Billy?" Mark questioned looking between Dean and Elle. Refusing the answer, Elle simply crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow in Dean's direction.

Noting Elle's stubbornness, Dean quickly responded, "Yeah, total quinky-dink there, huh?

"And all four of ya'll are Marshals?" The man still wasn't totally buying their story.

"No sir. This one-this one ain't a U.S. Marshal," Dean said as he wrapped his arm around Elle's shoulder. "This one's wanted for possession, fraud, theft...I think you get the picture. So she's offering us her assistance for a deal."

Elle turned toward Dean wearing a bitch face expression, but Dean ignored her and simply turned her head so that she faced the man on the porch once again. She cracked her neck from side to side as Mark gave her the one over. She knew that he was examining all the scars visible on her body-she hated being stared at for what that dick had done to her. After a sigh, Mark finally decided to respond again. "What's all this about?"

"Don't ask me," Elle muttered sarcastically.

"He wasn't asking you," Dean scoffed before he smacked Elle on the backside of the head. "He was talkin' to me." Elle rolled her eyes and muttered the words excuse me under her breath, trying to play along with Dean's game. "Sorry, 'bout her. She's got a bit of a stubborn streak going. We're actually in town looking for someone."

The man on the porch looked at them quizzically. Sam must have known they had to reveal more information because he began to explain the description of the man they were after. "A young man, early twenties." Sam hesitated for a moment, bringing his hand to his head before continuing. "He'd have a thick scar right below his hairline."

"What'd he do?" the man asked.

"Well, nothing…"

"Which is exactly what I told you," Elle hissed, still trying to play the game. "Can I go now?" Dean jerked her forward and she rolled her eyes. She knew that despite the fact that they were supposed to be ignoring the tension between them, Dean seemed to be enjoying their current predicament.

"So, uh-we're actually looking for someone else," Sam continued as he took a step closer to the man, "but we think this young man could help us."

"He's not in any kind of trouble or anything," Dean said with a smile. "At least not yet."

The man still looked at them hesitantly. Dean looked to Sam, who just shrugged his shoulders because it seemed like the man wasn't going to give anything up. Just then, Elle noticed something that might give them an in-a tattoo on his left arm. A tattoo that revealed a lot about the man and way for them to make a connection. "Tat," Elle coughed over her shoulder toward Dean.

Dean then looked toward the man and a slight smile played on his face. "I think you might know who he is...Master Sergeant." The man sitting on the porch seemed quite surprised by Dean's knowledge, so Dean continued. "My dad was in the Corps, he was a Corporal."

After Dean had made the connection, Mark seemed much more willing to answer any questions. He mentioned that a kid named Duane Tanner fit Sam's description; but that he considered the kid to be a good kid. Elle inserted one of her I told you's after that to which Dean responded by glaring at her before asking where they might find Duane. The kid lived at home with his family over on Aspen Way. Jo, Dean, and Sam all thanked Mark to which Elle mouthed the words help me before Dean snaked his hand around her arm and pulled her away from the situation.

When Elle was sure they were out of earshot, she turned toward Dean. "You're welcome," Elle scoffed. "For the tat clue. I think I deserve a pill for that. So, pill me, brother." Elle held out her hands like a beggar toward her brother.

"I would have gotten there eventually," Dean grunted before turning toward Jo. "When did she last take one?"

"I-uh-probably a couple of hours ago. Not sure, though," Jo responded.

"You could always ask me when I last took one," Elle retorted. "I would know...you know because I'm the one taking them. Just a thought."

"Yeah, well, with your track record, you're probably gonna lie to me," Dean scoffed. "So, excuse me if I don't believe you."

"Well, you're not excused, you ass."

"Elle, you can wait a little longer," Jo interrupted the siblings. "And Dean quit hassling your sister. You did make a promise to her."

"Sorry, Mom," Dean scoffed rolling his eyes. "I'll try to remember to play nice next time."

"Shut up, Dean."

"Like you back at the house?" Dean stopped in front of a post and raised an eyebrow to Jo. With a rather pissed-off expression on her face, she stopped walking and shook her head.

"Because I have no idea what the hell we're walking into...unlike you three," Jo argued with her arms folded defensively across her chest.

"Hey, I'm just as clueless about this as you are," Elle tried to fight back from the place where she stood between Jo and Dean; but Jo raised her eyebrow at the Winchester girl. Elle groaned and shook her head. "Well, mostly as clueless as you are."

"So, is anyone gonna tell me what the hell is going on?"

There was a moment of silence as Sam, Dean, and Elle all looked between each other. Sam released a puff of air before he shoved his hands in his pants pockets. "Jo, I don't know…" Sam started.

"Don't you even go there, Sam Winchester," Jo said sternly, placing her hands on her hips as she stared Sam down. "I'm here. I'm in this. I deserve to know what the hell I'm getting myself into." Sam seemed to be staring behind Jo's shoulder, so she snapped her fingers in his face. "Sam. Sam!"

"Yeah, yeah, hold on one second, Jo." Sam put his hands on Jo's shoulders before he gently pushed her out of the way and walked to the telephone pole that she stood in front of. His hand traced the carved letters in the wood, with a quizzical expression on his face. He then looked over his shoulder. "Dean, Elle, you guys gotta see this."

Reluctantly both Dean and Elle walked over to where Sam stood, Jo threw her hands up in exasperation before she followed them over. The letters carved into the pole were about at eye level for Elle. Croatoan. She knew what it meant, but she wondered if it truly had a significance here with whatever it was they were up against. But before Elle could say anything, Dean responded first, "So?"

"Roanoke was the lost colony, you idiot," Elle hissed.

"That says Croatoan, not whatever the hell you said, you idiot." Dean mocked Elle's tone, to which Elle responded with an eye roll before slapping the palm of her hand against her forehead.

"Dean, did you pay any attention in history class?" Sam scoffed.

"I think we all know the answer to that," Elle muttered.

"Hey," Dean groaned before he gave Elle a little shove, accidentally pushing her into Jo, before turning toward Sam. "I did-shot heard 'round the world...how bills become a laws…"

"That's not school," Sam hissed. "That's Schoolhouse Rock!"

"Exactly my point," Elle retorted.

"Whatever," Dean said narrowing his eyes slightly at his siblings, but when he looked to Jo, he found her shaking her head slowly with an expression of amazement on her face. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. "What?" Dean questioned.

"The fact that you three ever manage to accomplish anything is beyond my comprehension," Jo said looking between the three arguing siblings. "I mean seriously, you three are…"

"Awesome," Dean said with a grin.

"Yeah….no."

"Then how about just me?" Dean raised an eyebrow toward Jo to which she responded by raising an eyebrow of her own with a coy smile on her face while she bit her bottom lip. They looked only to each other.

Sam and Elle looked at each other uncomfortably. "Ugh," Elle said pretending to puke, causing Dean and Jo to both look to Elle. "Can you two stop flirting? It's disgusting." Jo's face instantly flushed a deep red while Dean folded his arms across his chest and scowled slightly at his sister.

"How about we get back to Roanoke, you know, the first English colony in America, late 1500s?" Sam suggested uncomfortably as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Ringing any bells, Dean?" Sam then pointed back to the word Croatoan with a slight grin on his face.

"Oh-yeah, yeah, I do remember that now," Dean said trying to hold back a smile that threatened to break his surly composure. "The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree: Croatoan." At this point, Dean slapped Sam's shoulder and then started silently laughing. "Sammy-do you, do you remember?"

A grin spread over Sam's face as well, even he was trying to hold it back; but it didn't last long. He started laughing beside Dean. Elle rolled her eyes, "Yeah, you two are hilarious."

Jo looked at Elle in confusion, "Did I miss something?"

"Only the fact that my brothers are assholes. I was probably about six or seven and Dad dragged us along with him to North Dakota-in the middle of freaking nowhere. Dad must've been out hunting and Sam was reading from Dean's history book out loud...the part about Roanoke. Well, those two decided to go carve the word in a tree right outside the window when I was taking a bath and then break into the room next door. I opened the curtain to look for them, saw the word Croatoan, and let's just say I hid under my bed crying until Dad came home a couple hours later because those two got distracted by the TV in the other room."

"In our defense, we were watching Indiana Jones," Sam said, finally getting his laughter under control. Elle just shook her head with a deadpanned expression on her face. Sam's hand then ran over the word again. "But this might be a clue."

"Not if two random assholes decided to carve the word into the post for a laugh."

"I'm not saying it is a clue-I'm just saying we can't rule it out. I mean with Roanoke, there were theories-Indian raid, disease, but nobody knows what happened. They were all just gone. I mean, wiped out overnight."

"You don't think that's what happening here, do you?" Dean questioned as he shifted his stance. "I mean…"

"Whatever I saw...it wasn't good. What could possibly do that?"

"I mean, all your weirdo visions are tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow." The Winchesters were so engrossed in their conversation, that they didn't notice Jo perk up and then continue listening silently from a small distance. She knew she was going to have to do this the hard way if she wanted any information.

"Sam, what did you see?" Elle asked gently, looking up at her brother with her pretty blue eyes. For a moment, she looked like Mary...at least the Mary Sam had seen from pictures. "Sam?"

Sam looked at Dean for a second before saying, "Dean shot...a guy."

Elle didn't miss the slight head nod from Dean. She pursed her lips for a moment before asking, "Is that all?"

"Yup," Sam answered quickly….too quickly. There was something that he was keeping from her. She just knew it.

"I don't buy it."

"Well, that's too bad because that's all you're getting," Dean interjected. "So if all this is leading where we think it's leading, we gotta do something."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Maybe we should call Bobby, Ellen,...or Greyson?" Sam suggested. Dean nodded his head before he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Elle reached for hers but quickly realized that her's was back in her bag...in Jo's truck.

"Huh," Dean vocalized. "I don't have a signal." Dean looked to Sam who shook his head, he didn't have a signal either. "Jo?" Jo looked at Dean innocently, pretending like she hadn't heard a word spoken between the siblings. Dean then held up his phone and Jo pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket. She then shook her head and Dean responded with another,"Huh."

By this point, Elle had walked over to the payphone which was only a few yards away from where they had been standing. She picked it up and pressed the phone to her ear only to be greeted by the sound of "out of service" beeping. She clicked the receiver several times, but still got only the same response. "Shit. Guys, the line's dead. I think we have a problem."

"I think you're onto something," Dean surprisingly agreed. "If I was gonna massacre a whole town, cutting the phone service would be my first step."

"Yeah...we have a problem. A big problem."

It was then that Jo took a step closer to the siblings with her mouth slightly agape. Her head was spinning a million possibilities of what all this could possibly mean, but her imagination was leading her nowhere even close to the truth. "What the hell have you three dragged me into?" Sam, Elle, and Dean all looked between each other. They were going to have to tell her everything they knew.

After the Winchesters gave Jo a third grade summary of what she wanted to know, they headed back to their vehicles so that they could drive out to the Tanner house to meet Duane, whom Sam had seen in his vision. Jo drove in silence following behind Dean, trying to process everything. "So, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the Yellow-Eyed Demon the thing that killed your mom?"

"And technically, me," Elle added. "And then he tortured me and we're pretty sure he made a deal with my dad...to save me and Dean. Fuckhead doesn't seem nasty enough to describe him."

"No, I guess not."

Elle reached for her shoulder bag and Jo immediately slammed on the brakes, causing Elle to hit her head on the dash. "What the hell was that for?"

"You've got another bottle. Hand it over."

"I was going for some gum." Elle pulled a pack of Winterfresh gum from her bag. "That's all." Elle unwrapped the gum before plopping the blue gum into her mouth.

"I'm not stupid, Elle. You have another bottle of Vicodin somewhere."

"You didn't take Dean's spare keys, so why do I have to give up my spare bottle?"

"Because you agreed to Dean regulating you...or do you enjoy being at odds with your brother?"

Elle thought for a moment. It wasn't fair what Jo was asking of her, but she knew that Jo was stubborn and would enforce some sort of consequence if she didn't reveal the location of her second bottle...but she made no mention of the third. Elle sighed. "It's in my duffel...back there." Elle looked out the back window and into the bed of the truck where the box full of hunting items...and Elle's duffel sat.

"Elle just trust me on this. We're going to get you through this, I promise." While Elle wanted to believe Jo's words, Elle didn't want to just get through this. The Vicodin had become her crutch and honestly, she couldn't imagine going any further in life without the stuff. Besides, if she was going to die...it might as well be on her terms.

Jo finally stepped on the gas and sped to catch back up to the boys. By the time they got to the Tanner residence, the Impala was already parked in the driveway and Sam and Dean were leaning against the trunk of the car waiting for them. Elle jumped out of the truck and walked to the bed before climbing inside. She opened her duffel and dug for her second bottle after making sure her third was safely tucked away in her boot. With a sigh, she set the bottle in Jo's hand and muttered to herself before jumping out of the truck bed. Elle didn't see what Jo did with the pills as Dean walked over.

"What was that about?" Dean grumbled. Elle froze for a moment. Was Jo going to give her deceit up? Elle looked at Jo, who was leaning into the truck with an apprehensive expression.

Jo stood up straight again and turned to face Dean. "I just wanted some gum," Jo said as she unwrapped the gum from its silver packaging before pushing the gum into her mouth. "Winterfresh. Want some?"

"No." Dean scoffed at the idea before he motioned for Sam to join them. Sam approached the trio with his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. Dean then continued, "I think we should split up on this one. Sam and I will do the U.S. Marshal bit and you two should look for anything suspicious."

"So after all of this, you're going to bench me?" Jo questioned.

"I'm not benching you."

"Yeah, you kinda are," Elle interjected crossing her arms. This made Jo stand a little taller beside her friend.

"I just want to make sure we're covering all our bases."

Elle raised an eyebrow at the second baseball reference when Sam decided to explain. "This guy was in my vision for a reason. He could be one of them. So, we need to be careful which is why you need to check things out."

Reluctantly, Elle nodded her head. What Sam was asking of them made sense, especially given what those kind of people were capable of. Her only issue was that she seemed to be internally programmed to oppose whatever Dean suggested. With a sigh, she turned toward her oldest brother holding out her hands, "C'mon, please? I'm in pain."

"What kind of pain?" Dean grumbled as he looked to his sister.

"Painful pain. I swear to god the last time I had one was right after you texted Jo."

"I text Jo every day, sometimes more than once-so, not very helpful."

Elle opened her mouth to respond when Dean's words hit her. She narrowed her eyes toward her brother, "Hang on why are you always texting Jo? Are you two…"

"Just give her the damn pill, Dean," Jo hissed interrupting Elle. "Then we can get this over with."

Dean and Jo locked eyes for a moment, Jo daring Dean to defy her, but Dean just grumbled under his breath before he pulled Elle's Vicodin bottle out of his jacket pocket. He struggled for a moment to open it before the cap flew off into the grass. Jo picked up the white cap as Dean tapped one pill into his hand. He dropped it into Elle's cupped hands. She easily knocked it back without any water, having just used spit she had built up in her mouth to lubricate it down her throat.

Dean tried to compartmentalize his emotions as he watched his sister take the Vicodin. Part of him wanted to shake her and tell her to snap out of it. Part of him felt sad looking at what had become of his littler sister-a girl once so full of life it was rather annoying. He had to look away for a moment to regain his composure. Then, he turned toward the girls. "Alright, Sam and I will take the front. You two go around back."

Jo and Elle grabbed their guns from the truck, just in case, before heading around the side of the house just as Sam and Dean rang the doorbell. The girls stayed tight against the house so that they wouldn't be seen. Elle had to go on her tippy toes to see inside and even then, she could barely see anything. Dean must have forgotten exactly how short she was. A rustling sound came from down the house. Jo led the way until they came to a window where they could hear a guy talking. Elle pushed an old wooden crate in front of the window so that they could get a better look inside.

The girls climbed on top of the crate and then slowly raised their heads so that they could see what was going on inside the room. Through the crack in the curtains, they managed to see a woman tied up to a chair and a man down on his haunches in front of her. Elle turned toward Jo. "Does this look suspicious to you?" Elle whispered.

"No, not at all," Jo whispered back sarcastically before responding seriously. "Of course, it does. I'm just not sure it's our kind of suspicious."

The man looked their direction for a minute, so both girls ducked below the window. Elle looked up to see the man's face almost flush against the glass, but thankfully he never looked down. He just walked away and the girls breathed a sigh of relief. They then slowly inched up to look in the window again. The man slapped the woman across the face and then walked back toward the front of the house.

Elle jumped off the wooden crate and practically ran for the back porch. Jo quickly followed after and reached for her arm, yanking her back. "What the hell?" Elle hissed. "We need to save that poor woman."

"We have no idea what we're walking into. What about the boys?" Jo whispered.

"What about them?"

"Elle, you're acting reckless. That's not you."

"Well, maybe it's the new me and if it saves someone's life, then it's worth it."

Jo groaned as Elle managed to slip her grasp. She walked up the steps to the back porch and right to the door. She turned the handle only to find that the door was locked. Elle pushed the sleeve of her sweatshirt over her fist. She then pulled back her fist to get some momentum to punch the glass, Jo grabbed Elle's hand and stopped her.

"If you break the glass you're going to draw attention to us."

"Maybe that's what I want."

"It's not only your ass on the line right now, Elle. It's mine too. When you're working together with someone you can't go off half-cocked, we have to be in this together. Not to mention that we could put the boys at risk."

Elle groaned. Jo had a point. After another groan, Elle pulled the bobby pins out of her hair before she knelt before the door. Sam was better at this than she was, but she was just slower than he was. "Let me know if they come back and try anything because then we're screwing your plan and going to mine."

After a few minutes of Elle struggling to pick the lock, the boys were around the backside of the house with them. They didn't get to speak because moments later the father and son came back. The son slashed his mother's arm and Elle knew she had to act. She punched her fist through the glass without even covering it. She knew that it was stupid, but she was in an act first, question later mindset. The glass shattered to the floor as Elle reached inside and unlocked the door before running inside, her hand dripping with blood.

By this point, Mr. Tanner had wrapped his arms around Mrs. Tanner, holding a knife in his hands. He was using his wife as a shield. Everything seemed to happen so quickly as the boys followed Elle inside. Mr. Tanner, while still holding his wife, cut his own arm and bled on his wife. Disgusted by this creep Elle ran toward him. She kicked the wife's chair, causing the man to tumble backward. Then without hesitation she aimed her weapon at the man and pulled the trigger, shooting him in the head. Blood splattered seemingly everywhere, even spattering Elle's grey sweatshirt.

The kid lunged at Dean, knocking him to the ground before knocking down Jo and running past Sam. Elle stared at the man she had killed as the kid jumped out the window and managed to flee. Elle was too consumed with anger. How was it that people...or sometimes they weren't even people...were willing to torture and belittle people. Elle closed her eyes as her thoughts flashed back to when she was in the warehouse with her father and the Yellow Eyed Demon. He had taken advantage of her in that situation. But maybe, just maybe, killing this bastard would manage to ease her troubled soul.

Dean sat up and looked at his brother, who had let the dirty good-for-nothing kid get away and his sister who stood there coldly. What the hell had happened to them both? It was almost as if they had switched roles. Elle cracked her neck before she wiped her bloody hand on her sweatshirt. Elle pulled the sweatshirt off, revealing a childish Tigger shirt and tossed the sweatshirt in the garbage. She then asked the woman where they kept their dishtowels before grabbing one and wrapped it around her hand.

"We need to get her to the hospital," Elle said aloud to the others.

"What about you?" Jo asked as she stood up and walked over to the woman. "Your hand…"

"It's fine. I can't really feel anything." Elle then looked over to Dean. "Good thing you gave me my pill then, huh?"

Dean didn't say anything. Instead, he gently punched Sam in the arm and told him to grab the woman. He was going to carry the man outside. Dean loaded Mr. Tanner in the back of Jo's truck while Mrs. Tanner climbed in the back of the Impala, completely out of her mind in shock. The Winchesters and Jo climbed back into their vehicles before heading back into town. As Jo drove, Elle clenched and unclenched her fist, watching the towel soak even more crimson.

"You're going to need stitches," Jo scoffed.

"Sam and I will be twins," Elle said half-heartedly since she and Sam would both have bandaged right hands.

"It's not funny. What you did back there…"

"We saved the woman, didn't we? No thanks to you."

Jo bit her tongue, choosing not to respond to Elle's baiting attempts. She knew that Elle had been raring for an argument for weeks now, but Jo never gave her one to quench the desire. Jo knew that it was a matter of time before Elle exploded of emotions-either in anger or tears...or both.

Both vehicles sped back into town. The Impala pulled in front of the clinic first and Jo pulled the truck into park behind it. The boys got out of the Impala and the girls from the truck. Dean shouted for one of them to help Sam get Mrs. Tanner into the clinic. Jo immediately rushed to Mrs. Tanner's side. The wounded woman wrapped an arm around Sam's middle and the other around Jo's neck before the three of them walked into the clinic.

Elle watched as Dean pulled Mr. Tanner into a fireman's hold. He was just about to head inside when Elle stopped him before quietly whispering, "I need another one."

Dean's lips seemed to curl for a moment as if he were debating what exactly to tell her when he answered, "Kinda busy right now, Elle." He shifted the man's weight as Elle stared up at him blankly.

After shaking his head, he then walked past her and into the clinic. Elle made sure that he was inside the clinic before she reached for her duffel bag and started rifling through it for her boot. She pulled out the spare bottle and popped another pill before she stuffed the bottle back into her boot and headed inside. Elle walked through the door to have Jo grab her by the arm and drag her to the blonde nurse standing there in shock. "Excuse me, but my friend here needs to get seen," Jo stated.

"Jo, stop," Elle hissed. "I'm fine."

"You need stitches. These cuts are deep," Jo argued.

"Your friend is right," the blonde nurse responded before examining Elle's scars up and down her body. By this point, it was almost second nature to Elle to have people staring at her...but it didn't make it any easier. The nurse bit her bottom lip before responding. "Why don't you...come back with me and I can get it cleaned up."

'Honestly, I'm fine. I've been through worse...as you can see."

"Really, I insist."

"Go on," Jo said with a nod.

Reluctantly, Elle followed the nurse, whose nametag read Pam, toward the back. They walked by the lab where a doctor was seeing to Mrs. Tanner. Mrs. Tanner looked up at Elle, her lip trembling. Elle knew the woman was replaying the scene where Elle had killed her husband, but to be honest, Elle wasn't. The old Elle would have been-replaying over and over in her mind what she possibly could have done differently; but not now...not this hardened version of her former self. The doctor looked over her shoulder to see Elle standing there staring inside.

"Pam, why don't you irrigate her wounds in here?" Dr. Lee said.

"We wouldn't want to intrude," Pam argued.

"No, I insist. It'll be easier on me."

"I'm sure the...patient would like somewhere a little more private."

Both Pam and Dr. Lee looked to Elle. "Hell if I care." Dr. Lee gave a faint smile before she pointed to a chair near a sink. Elle's feet immediately moved to the chair and Nurse Pam grumbled something under her breath as the Winchester girl walked inside.

Pam walked over to the cabinet before returning with the necessary equipment to clean out Elle's wound. Elle sat on the chair with her hand resting on the counter as Pam leaned against the counter with a fake smile plastered on her face. Elle simply rolled her eyes as the woman touched her hand. Something inside seemed to want to recoil from the woman's touch, but Elle told herself she was just being jumpy.

"So, what's your name?" Pam asked as she continued to clean out the wound, taking out a shard of glass.

"Elle."

"Just Elle or is it short for something."

"Campbell."

"Campbell Winchester, at last." Elle didn't even catch that the woman knew her last name without it being revealed. She was too busy staring at the poster behind the woman. But Pam continued to talk. "So-uh, if you don't mind me asking. How did you get all of...those?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"So...did any blood get in your wound?" Elle looked at the woman curiously. Why would it matter? "You know, blood born pathogens and all."

"No, I covered my hand with the sleeve of my sweatshirt before...just before. Ouch!" Elle pulled her hand away from the woman who looked almost disappointedly at her.

"I think I can take it from here, Pam," Dr. Lee said. "Just let me just check in with the Marshals really quick."

Pam moved to reach for Elle's hand again, but Elle pulled it close to her. "You can go too," Elle announced before dismissing the woman with her other hand. Pam looked at Elle for a moment before she walked away as Elle was clenching and unclenching her fist again. For some reason, the action seemed to sooth her-despite the fact that crimson blood gushed from her hand because of it. Elle refused to talk to Mrs. Tanner who sat there quietly staring at the Winchester girl. The younger girl didn't have any answers, so it wasn't worth her time or emotions to get involved.

Several minutes later, Dr. Lee returned to stitch up Elle's hand. The woman took careful note that this wasn't the first time Elle had this happen to her; but Elle didn't go into detail. Just said that it came with the nature of her job. The doctor could choose whether or not to believe her. Once Elle's hand was all stitched up and bandaged, she walked out into the waiting room where Sam sat anxiously reading one of the magazines. When he spotted his sister, he immediately jumped out of his seat and tried to run over to her, but he tripped on the leg of the table. He crashed onto the chairs causing Elle to laugh as he picked himself up. "How are you?" Sam asked when he finally managed to walk over to Elle.

"Fine, just tired," Elle said slowly blinking her eyes.

"Because of the Vicodin? I was reading about it and…"

"Because it's been a long day, you idiot." Sam was silent for a moment and he simply nodded his head. He didn't want to drive his sister farther off than they already had. Elle sighed before she asked, "Where's Jo?"

"With Dean."

Elle raised an eyebrow. "Where's Dean?"

"With Jo."

The Winchester girl groaned at her brother's response. Sometimes she forgot that Sam could be just as much of a dweeb as Dean. Elle bit her bottom lip before she rubbed at her hand and then looked back to her brother. "Do you know why Jo and Dean have been texting so much?"

"I do," was all he answered. Elle stood there waiting for him to say something more but he never did. Instead, he walked back to the lab to check on Dr. Lee's findings of Mr. Tanner. He was almost to the door when he turned around. "You coming?"

With a sigh, Elle followed after Sam. Nurse Pam was in the lab chewing on her fingernails as Dr. Lee examined samples under a microscope. Sam paced back and forth waiting for the doctor to tell them something. Elle simply hopped up onto the counter and had a seat, swinging her legs back and forth. For a moment, Elle thought she saw Pam looking at her bandaged hand with a curious expression on her face; but she her thoughts were interrupted when Dr. Lee began to discuss some of her findings: high lymphocyte percentage, which meant the guy was fighting off a viral infection.

Elle's stomach flopped at the mention of an infection. Had she killed someone who was sick? But the doctor confirmed that even she had never seen an infection that could cause that much violence...or sulfur in the blood. At the mention of sulfur, Elle and Sam met eyes. Sulfur was a demonic thing...not a sickness thing. Elle chewed at her bottom lip as Sam stopped and leaned against the table right beside Elle, whispering low enough for only her to hear. "We've never faced anything like this."

"I know," Elle whispered, pretending not to be in a conversation with her brother.

"We're sitting ducks until Dean and Jo get back...so now what do we do?"

"Do you have Dad's journal on you?"

"Yeah, it's in my jacket pocket. Why?"

"I never told either of you this...but dad was pissed, and I mean pissed about the Croatoan carving when we were kids. He had to have known something if he was that pissed. Which means that…"

"He would have written it in his journal. That makes sense," Sam mused. He shifted his stance so that he now stood up straight. "How pissed was he?"

"Pissed enough to apologize for raising two idiot boys. Then he held my hand the entire way to the vending machines and let me buy whatever the hell kind of candy I wanted before walking me back. I mean, it doesn't seem like much, but for Dad…"

"Yeah, that was pretty huge. It's funny, I don't remember him being pissed off about it though."

"He didn't want to involve us yet. Besides, that's Dad, just when you think you got him figured out he throws you for a loop. Now, the journal?" Sam looked over his journal to make sure no one watched him hand it to Elle before she reached for it and began thumbing through the pages. After several dozen page flips Elle stopped. "I think I found something," she whispered to her brother.

Elle put her finger on the page and ran it under the words John had written about Croatoan. Croatoan: demon name? (makes sense) Known as Deva or sometimes as Resheph. Demon of Plague and Pestilence...Resheph=semantic god of war and plague. Head of gazelle on his forehead an important member of the pantheon of Ugarit.

"Yeah, it makes sense why Dad would be pissed...thought we were summoning a demon," Sam said.

"Not just any demon by the looks of it. In some cultures, isn't Pestilence a horseman of the apocalypse?" Elle asked. Sam's expression changed to one of horror rather quickly.

"Yeah, I think you're right. So, Dean and I potentially starting the apocalypse? Probably not our finest moment."

"No; but I'm sure it's gotta take something more than you two idiots to start the apocalypse, though, if it makes you feel better." Sam gave Elle a gentle smile as he started to page through the journal. "So, now we just wait for Dean."

"Elle, I have to tell you something."

"If it's about my pills…" Elle eyed him defensively, not wanting to come under attack for her drug usage; but he held up his hand and shook his head.

"It's not, I swear." Sam looked at her with uncertainty in his eyes, so Elle nodded her head hoping that he wasn't trying to pull one over on her. "I'm-I'm not sure how to tell you this, but I think you deserve to know, before Dean gets back."

"Know what?"

"When I was telling you and Jo about my vision...I lied. In my vision, Dean had the gun aimed at Duane. The kid was so nervous and he-he couldn't, but then next thing I know Dean pulls the trigger...but it wasn't Duane he shot. It was you."

"Me? Why me?" Elle barely choked the words out. Her thoughts were swimming. She knew that Dean was upset with her; but upset enough to kill her? Tears stung at Elle's eyes as she fanned her eyes to keep them from spilling over. "Does he know?"

"He does. He's promised that he would never do anything like that. He was oddly confident about it, actually."

"Then why bother telling me? Why bring me here?"

"Because I want to make sure that we're controlling the narrative here. We've changed my visions before. We have to change this one...which is why I needed you to come."

"You should have just left me alone."

"And let you somehow wander into the vision unprepared? Like hell was I going to let that happen. This is all supposed to be happening...like some higher power is setting it all up for some reason...some purpose."

"Sam, I don't think God cares."

"You'll see, Elle. You'll see."

Elle wasn't going to hold her breath. Why would God care about her? He wouldn't...especially given her current state of affairs. So, she jumped from the counter and excused herself to use the bathroom. She was in there for quite some time fumbling about with only having one had to use. But when she exited the bathroom, Sam had her shoulder bag in hand which he handed to her.

So, Elle walked over to the kiddie bean bag in the corner and plopped herself down with her Gameboy Advance to try and distract herself from what Sam had told her. Dean was supposed to shoot her. Sam never mentioned whether or not she died, but given the fact that she was shot...it was a safe assumption that she died in his vision. Sam never should have brought her here...she could very well die this day. But honestly, the more she thought about it. Death didn't seem as torturous...no, it seemed like the best way out of things.

About twenty minutes into her game of Pokemon Crystal, pounding came at the door. Jo and Dean were calling for her and Sam. Elle stood up to let them in, but Sam quickly intercepted her. He unlocked the door and made sure it was actually Jo and Dean before he let them in with Mark from earlier. "Did you guys make it to a phone?" Sam asked.

"Road was blocked," Jo said. "They're doing some type of quarantine or something. Whoever is doing this, they're really trying everything they can to trap people."

"What's going on out there?" Elle asked.

"Man, I don't know, but I feel like Chuck Heston in the Omega Man," Dean grunted.

"I think what Dean means to say is that Sarge Mark here was the only sane person we could manage to find," Jo added. "It's hell out there. The infected are trying to infect the others."

"How?" Elle asked.

Jo bit her bottom lip before speaking. "Blood to blood contact. That's why Mr. Tanner cut Mrs. Tanner. He wiped his blood on hers."

"And now she's here…" Elle said sullenly bringing the long sleeve of her Tigger shirt over her injured hand. She had lied to the nurse. She hadn't covered her hand before she took the shot. Mr. Tanner's blood could have very well affected her too.

"You mean to tell you that you're housing one of them?" Sarge Mark hissed. "We've gotta take care of this. My neighbors were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger they get."

"He had a neighbor named, Mr. Rogers," Dean said with a slight smile on his face and a nod of his head. "Mr. Rogers."

"Now's not the time for that," Jo grumbled before elbowed Dean in the side. "We need to figure out how to deal with whatever it is we're dealing with."

"I think the words biblical plague would be appropriate." Dean looked over to Jo who looked ready to punch him again. "Hey! Stop hitting me."

"Dean, now is not the time for your jokes!" Elle looked between the pair. They looked awfully friendly...more than friendly even. Were they conspiring against her? But now wasn't exactly the best time for paranoia.

"He might not be far off actually…" Sam started. He explained what they had found in the journal. How it was basically a demonic virus that was wiping out an entire city, but how they hadn't found anything that might aid them in ridding them of the virus...or anything that might act as a vaccine. When he was finished he said, "So now what?"

"We take care of Beverly Tanner if you're sure she's one of 'em," Sarge Mark said before skulking off toward the lab with a gun in his hand.

Elle's heart began to race nervously at the sight of his gun before she looked to her brother's gun...the gun that was supposed to shoot her. For a moment, Elle found it hard to breathe, but thankfully no one was watching her struggle because they followed Sarge into the back. They had since moved Beverly Tanner to a utility room, just in case; but Elle couldn't help but wonder if she should be locked up too. But she didn't say anything, she just followed after the group, cautious to be a few steps behind.

They approached the utility closet. Dean opened the door before they all stepped inside to find Beverly Tanner huddled in a corner with her knees drawn up. Both Mark and Dean have their guns aimed at her causing the woman to jump. "Mark what are you doing?" Beverly pleaded. "It's them! They locked me in here! They tried to kill me! They're infected! Not me! Please, Mark. You've known me your whole life. Please!" Mark appeared to be struggling with the decision when things turned nasty and she pointed a finger at Elle. "If you're gonna shoot me, you better shoot her! She shot my husband and you know the blood splatters and she had an open wound too."

Elle's eyes widened and everything seemed to move quickly. It was as if the world began to spin. Dean shot and killed Beverly Tanner as Sarge turned his gun on Elle. Slowly, she raised her hands in defense. "Don't shoot!" Dean shouted as he aimed his gun at Mark.

"Bev said that his blood splattered on her too," Sarge argued.

"She's lying. Elle's not one of 'em. I'm not going to let you shoot my sister."

"How can you know for sure she's not infected?"

"Because she wasn't one in my vision," Sam offered as he slowly walked to put himself between Sarge's gun and Elle. "I've seen what happens. Elle wasn't one of them. You have my word that if she turns, I'll do it myself."

"What the hell is going on in here?" Dr. Lee asked as she walked into the doorway.

"She might be one of 'em," Sarge insisted.

"Her blood, check her blood," Jo said. "Sam said Mr. Tanner had sulfur in his blood. If Elle has it she'd have sulfur in her blood too."

Dr. Lee stood there in shock, but it was Dean who shook her out of it. "Check her damn blood, lady!"

Slowly, Dr. Lee took a swab of Elle's blood from her stitched up wound and rubbed it into a petri dish. Dr. Lee also took a sample of Beverly's blood to compare to in another petri dish. Jo accompanied the doctor back into the lab, so that she could verify the results. All the while, the Winchesters stood there. Elle, with her arms raised in defense, Sam, trying to protect his sister, Dean, with his gun aimed at Sarge who still aimed his gun at Elle.

They stood there for about five minutes before Jo ran back, "She's clean. We checked it against Mr. Tanner's. No sulfur."

Sarge slowly lowered his gun before looking back to Beverly. "Maybe it doesn't appear until they actually turn...maybe it has an incubation period. Maybe the petri dishes got switched."

"What exactly are you saying?" Dean questioned.

"I'm saying, we leave her locked up in here until we can be sure."

"But Beverly's blood has traces of sulfur. If we match that up to the timeline…" Jo started.

"I'm not taking any damn chances! He just killed my friend and I should be doing the same to his sister. The least you can do is what I'm asking."

"No way in hell," Dean growled. "Look at her! She's fine!"

"Dean, it's fine," Elle sighed. "I deserve this." Dean looked at her with a look of confusion on his face, but Elle couldn't bring herself to look at him. She looked to Sarge and asked, "Can I at least go get my Gameboy before you lock me in?"

Rather reluctantly, Sarge nodded his head, but he kept his gun aimed at Elle as she walked back into the waiting room and grabbed her Gameboy and the beanbag chair before returning to the storage room. Thankfully, they had removed Beverly Tanner's body. So, Elle tossed the beanbag chair on the floor before she plopped onto it. Jo moved to sit down beside Elle, but Sarge grabbed hold of Jo's arm and said, "We should wait outside, just in case. Don't want to risk her spreading it."

"She doesn't have it," Jo stated.

"Jo, it's fine. Go on. All of you, go on. Jolteon and I need some alone time anyway," Elle said bravely.

Jo looked to her rather sadly, but Elle patted Jo's hand and told her once more to go on. So, Jo followed out of the room with the boys. Elle heard the click of the lock and knew that she was locked inside the room. If Beverly Tanner was right-it should only be a matter of minutes before Elle turned into one of them. But ten minutes came and went...twenty...thirty...and still Elle was normal. Well, as normal as she had been before the Tanners.

Eventually, there came a gentle knock at the door and somebody slipped inside. Elle looked up to see that her oldest brother had snuck into see her...or perhaps it was to yell at her. Inside, Elle was putting up her defenses in case her brother decided that now was the perfect time to attack. "You're not supposed to be in here," Elle said, not looking up from her Pokemon game.

"Yeah, well, I figured it was about time you and I had a little chat," Dean said as he gently pushed Elle so that he could sit on the beanbag chair beside her.

"If by little chat, you mean talk about my supposed Vicodin addiction, then you might wanna give me one first. I can sense it's going to be painful. Damnit! You stupid Magikrap!" Dean looked to her oddly. Elle could sense his eyes on her, so she briefly turned toward him. "Not you, the game."

Dean pulled the pill bottle out of his jacket pocket and twirled it between his hands. He then looked to his sister. "Why? Can you at least tell me why?"

"I don't know why, Dean." Elle still continued staring at the screen and pressing the appropriate button for her game. "Why do you drink?"

"That's different."

"Not really."

"I didn't come in here to argue with you."

"No, you came in here to see if I turned; but what I don't get is why." Elle set her Gameboy down on her lap and turned to look at her brother. "Why do you care so much? Don't give me the you're my sister crap; because you never do this with Sam."

"Because you're my responsibility."

"Dean, I'm twenty-two years old. Most people my age are off getting jobs, getting married, and having kids."

"I made Dad a promise that I intend on keeping-to look after you."

"Well, you've kinda sucked at that job recently. I've been gone for over a month without seeing you, not to mention that I've been away for God knows how long." Elle picked up her Gameboy again. "Jesus-Effing-Christ. How many hyper potions do you have?"

Dean shook his head and rested his hand over his eyes for a moment before turning toward his sister. "You wanna know why I text and call Jo as much as I do?"

"Because you're in love with her?" Elle retorted still looking at her screen.

"No-I-it's complicated; but no. I've actually been keeping an eye on you." Elle turned toward her brother. "C'mon, you have to had wondered why I didn't go straight to California right after you did. It's because I let you. I easily could have found you if I wanted to; but I trusted Jo...just as I trusted Greyson. Yeah, I texted Greyson too. He got annoyed pretty fast though."

Elle continued to play as she tried to process Dean's words. She wasn't sure what to say. While part of her was pissed that Dean had been keeping tabs on her this entire time, it didn't really surprise her. But this was all too messed up to fix, especially if she was going to die. Elle sighed, "What do you want me to say Dean?"

"That you want to fix all of this. That you want to get better."

"And if I don't?"

Sounds of shouting came from outside. Jo knocked on the door and called for Dean. Dean stood straight up and ran from the room. In his hurry, he forgot to lock the door behind him, which Elle immediately noticed. For a while, she just sat there on the beanbag with her Pokemon game, until she heard the name Duane. This perked up Elle's ears because he was the guy from Sam's vision….meaning that whatever was about to happen, was going to happen soon.

Something inside Elle convinced her that she was needed in the other room. Maybe it was fate or destiny, but she felt drawn to leave her isolation. So she left her Gameboy on the beanbag and left the room, inching toward the lab where people were talking, staying close against the wall. Her breathing was heavy, but she had to do this...didn't she? She knew Sam wanted to control the narrative, but sometimes destiny just needed to be fulfilled.

Once Elle caught sight of the room, Dean had his gun pointed at the young man named Duane, who was pleading with Dean that he fine. That whatever it was, wasn't in him. Having just been in the kid's situation, Elle could understand where he was coming from; but Dean kept his gun aimed. Then, knowing that what she was about to attempt was reckless, she did it anyway. She ran forward and put herself in front of Duane like a human shield. Her body was quivering from the adrenaline, but this was how it had to be. This was how it was supposed to be. This was how she would finally be able to find peace.

Dean's eyes widened in shock as he noticed Elle standing in front of him. Sam shouted her name and lunged forward to grab her; but Sarge took hold of him and tripped Jo. Dean tried to maneuver his gun to get a good shot at Duane, but Elle seemed to be blocking every shot. He looked to his sister, as the tears streamed down her face. He grunted for her to move, but she didn't budge. "Do it," Elle said before whispering, "Please."

Dr. "No," Dean responded.

"Please, just end this. This is how it's supposed to happen. You know it."

"End what Elle?"

"All of it."

"Elle, you're not thinking straight."

"Of course she isn't! She's infected!" Sarge hissed.

"If she were infected she'd be trying to infect us, not kill herself," Sam argued as he struggled against Sarge's grasp. "She's depressed."

"Oh screw this," Dean grunted before he pulled Elle's pills out of his jacket pocket. He shook her pills in the bottle and her eyes widened slightly. "You want these?" He knew if her addiction was strong enough that she wouldn't be able to resist. Elle closed her eyes, clearly trying to fight her desire for them but it was too strong. She took a step forward but before Dean could hand her the pills, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her tight against him before Jo tossed him a rag with chloroform on it. He held it to Elle's face for a few seconds before she passed out."I knew she was going to try something stupid." Dean then looked down to his sister. "This is for your own good. There's no reason to go sacrificing yourself. I need to keep you safe from yourself."

With Elle still unconscious on the floor, Dr. Lee crossed the room to check on her; but Sarge hissed for her to draw some of Duane's blood. Dr. Lee checked Elle's vitals first and everything seemed to be ok. So, she stood up and walked over to Duane when Nurse Pam suddenly gasped. "What was that?" Sam, Dean, Jo, and Sarge looked to each other. "Didn't you hear that? Somebody should go check that out."

"Let's go," Sarge grunted. "All those with guns." Sam, Dean, and Jo all pulled out their weapons before following the man out of the lab and back into the waiting room.

As Dr. Lee prepared to draw blood from Duane, Pam looked quizzically out the door before walking out into the hallway and back into the lab. "Dr. Lee," Pam said blinking her eyes quickly. "I think they're calling you."

"Take his blood for me," Dr. Lee said as she walked out of the room.

Pam looked over to Duane before she looked down at Elle with a sly grin on her face. She walked over to the counter and pulled out a scalpel. Looking back over to Duane, she gave him a nod and then straddled Elle and lifted the girl's shirt up. "Now where to do this. Don't want to ruin any of Daddy's artwork." Pam gently touched the scalpel to Elle's flesh before picking it back up and repeating. "Eenie, meenie, miney, mo." The room began to shake, but Pam only laughed and made a deep cut between sigils on Elle's chest, close to her heart.

Elle began to come to as she watched Pam slice open her own hand before pressing her wound against her chest. The Winchester girl looked down to see that she had a cut on her chest and that Pam's blood was dripping into her wound. Elle opened her mouth to scream, but Pam pressed her bloody hand against Elle's mouth and the Winchester girl had no strength left to fight. Pam then looked to Duane and nodded again.

Duane then began to yell, "Sam! Sam!" Pam took this as her chance to press herself against the wall before Sam came running into the room.

Sam ran into the middle of the room, alone, just as Pam had anticipated. Sam instantly bent down to Elle's side as Pam moved toward the door and quietly closed it and locked it. Worry was written all over Sam's face as he saw his sister laying there with blood on her chest. "What the hell happened?" Sam hissed.

Elle's eyes fluttered shut for a second before she barely breathed out the word, "Pam."

Sam's eyes widened as he turned around to see Pam standing right behind him. She punched him, causing him to be knocked backward to the ground. Pam jumped on top of him and slapped him across the face hard, leaving a trail of her blood and Sam reeling. Dean must have heard the commotion because he was shouting from the other side of the door. He tried jiggling the door handle, but it was no use. Pam used the same scalpel she had on Elle to slice open Sam's chest before she pressed her hand against Sam's open wound.

Suddenly, the door was kicked open by Dean before he released three rounds straight into Pam. She convulsed a bit before she fell to the floor. Panting, Sam extended a hand toward Dean. Dean moved to grab it, but Sarge pulled him back. "She bled on him. He's got the virus...they both got the virus," Sarge stated. Sam dropped his hand, knowing what Sarge said was true. Dean looked between Sam, Elle, and Pam as if he had just suddenly lost his entire world.

Several minutes later, Sam was sitting on the lab table as Dr. Lee bandaged the wound on his chest. Elle sat beside him, leaning heavily against him, still quite tired from the chloroform. She rubbed at the bandaging on her chest. She knew she was going to die today...but just had expected it to be quite like this. Dean told the doctor to check their wounds again, but Sarge wasn't having any of that.

"What's the need to examine them for? Duane saw what happened. She bled on 'em both."

"We don't know that for sure. Maybe she missed...like Mr. Tanner missed Elle," Dean argued.

"We can't take that chance again, especially when we have an eyewitness account that says otherwise. You know what we have to do."

"Nobody's shooting my brother or sister."

"They ain't gonna be your brother and sister for much longer and you know it. You said it yourself. We need to…"

"Nobody's shooting anybody!" Jo roared, putting her hands up between Sarge and Dean. "Got it? No shooting."

"He was gonna shoot me," Duane argued with a head nod toward Dean.

"And if you don't shut your pie-hole, I still might," Dean hissed. He moved to take a step toward Duane, but Jo's hand reached out in front of his chest. He jerked backward and grunted.

"Settle down," Jo told Dean. "You getting pissed-off isn't going to help anybody, especially Sam and Elle." Dean groaned and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"Dean, they're right," Sam said, his voice shaking. "We're infected. If you can't do it, give us the gun and we'll do it ourselves." Dean looked to Sam and his face contorted, trying to hold back the tears.

Elle, still leaning against Sam said weakly, "It's our fate Dean."

"No," Dean hissed. "Forget it. We still got time to fix this."

"Look, I understand they're your family," Sarge said. "And I'm sorry, but we gotta take care of this." Sarge pulled his handgun out of his pocket, but Dean stepped between the gun and his siblings.

"Look, I'm gonna say this one more time-you make a move on either of them and you'll be dead before you've hit the ground. You understand me?" By this point Dean was breathing rather raggedly. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Then what the hell do you expect us to do?"

Dean dug in his pocket before he found his keys. He pulled them out of his pocket before he tossed them at Sarge who easily caught them. Sarge looked to Dean uncertainly but the eldest Winchester spoke, "Get the hell out of here, that's what. Take my car. There's an arsenal in there which should be enough firepower to get you out of here."

"What about you?"

Dean looked back to his brother and sister, but Sam argued with him. He told Dean that he ought to go with them, but Dean put a stop to that. "You ain't getting rid of me that easily." Dean patted Sam's shoulder and gave a slight smile.

"It's your funeral, kid."

With that, Sarge, Duane, and Dr. Lee left the building. This left Jo, Elle, Dean, and Sam in the lab. Dean looked to Jo who was standing there with her arms folded across her chest. He walked over to the door and said, "Jo, I need your help with something."

Jo followed Dean out into the waiting room, as Elle closed her eyes and snuggled closer to Sam, who wrapped his arm around her. Out in the waiting room, Dean leaned against the reception desk with his arms folded across his chest. He looked tired. Jo pressed her hand against his cheek and looked up at him sympathetically. "You should go," Dean said gruffly as he rubbed his cheek against her soft hand.

"I'm staying here, Dean," Jo said rather flatly. "You're gonna need me here."

"No, we need to tell your mom and Bobby what the hell is going on. It's gotta be you. Sam and Elle are my responsibility. You need to warn the others what is coming." While she didn't want to believe Dean's words, she knew that he was right. One of them had to go...and it made sense for it to be here.

"Dean," Jo sighed, her voice wavering and her eyes on the brink of tears. Dean looked at her with tears stinging at his eyes too. She grabbed his face with her hands before pulling it toward her own face. Her lips met his for a gentle kiss before she pulled back and released his face. He stared at her with a stunned silence and Jo whispered, "Just in case I never see you again."

Jo took a few steps backward before she turned to walk away from Dean. She was a few yards away when Dean called to her, "Jo." Jo looked over her shoulder to see Dean jogging toward her before his arms pulled her close to him and he crashed his lips against hers. His kiss was anything but gentle and it left Jo feeling breathless when he pulled away. His green eyes looked right into Jo's light brown ones and he gave a slight smile before he said, "You know, just in case I never see you again."

Jo gave a forced laugh. "Stay safe," she said knowing that it was meaningless. Dean nodded his head before he walked with Jo to the door. Jo stopped just in front of the door before turning to Dean once more. "Tell Sam and Elle…" her voice broke.

But Dean knew what she was trying to say. So, he nodded his head and said, "Yeah, I will." He then bent down and kissed her once more before he opened the door and watched her run to her truck. He stood there, making sure that she pulled away before he walked back to Sam and Elle in the back room.

Elle looked rather out of it as she looked as Dean with a rather goofy smile on her face. "You kissed her, didn't you?" Elle said rather groggily.

"That's none of your business," Dean grunted.

"Oh, c'mon, I'm going to die soon. The least you can do is tell me."

"Yeah-I did. Happy?"

"No, what would make us happy is if you got the hell out of here," Sam said. "Give me my gun and leave."

"Not happening, Sammy." Dean sat down on a stool across from his siblings and looked around the room. "Too bad we don't have a deck of cards. All we got is Elle's stupid Gameboy."

"This is the dumbest thing you've ever done."

"Oh, I don't know about that. Remember that waitress in Tampa?"

Dean shuddered. Sam groaned and Elle sat up. She wasn't sure if it was because she was so out of it or because she wanted to die with everything on the table, but whatever the reason she said, "I have some things I need to tell you, both."

"We already know you're addicted to Vicodin," Dean groaned. "Speaking of which, either of you want one?" He pulled the bottle out of his pocket again and tossed it in the air.

"I'm being serious, Dean. I-I've been keeping some secrets...from you both. And-and I figure if we're going to die here today, I don't want to die with the weight of them on my chest. You both deserve the truth."

Sam and Dean looked to each other before they looked to Elle. Tears were beginning to stream down her face as she wiped at them with her long sleeves. "I-I, don't even know where to begin. I'm good at keeping secrets, not so good at sharing them." Elle slowly exhaled a breath, causing a stray tendril of hair to fly out of her face. "The first thing...is about what happened about a year ago. Not even that long ago; but do you remember when I ended up with Bobby and ya'll didn't know what happened to me? I didn't run away or anything. I somehow ended up in Wisconsin. Something brought Dad and I there. It knew things about me-it, it showed me the past. If Dad weren't there too I would have sworn I was hallucinating, but whatever it was brought me back...and I have no idea why. And it won't leave me alone. It talks to me. I mean, it hasn't in a while now...but I just, I don't know what it is or why it chose me."

"I-I," Dean stammered.

"I'm not done yet," Elle cried. "This one is harder to say. I need to say it now...or I'm afraid that I'll never say it and I can't die taking this with me to my grave. Before Dad died, he-he came to my room." Elle wiped at her face which was now tear-stained. "He came to apologize and to tell me that he loved me. That he treated me like crap to protect me...that he loved me so much I was his weakness and he didn't want that exploited. And-and I didn't believe him. I yelled at him." Elle gasped for air. "I told him that I hated him and I never wanted to see him again." Elle stopped for a moment, trying to calm herself down. "And I got my wish. I'm sorry I said it. I was just so...angry after everything and-and…"

Suddenly, there was a loud knocking at the door. Dean looked to it in surprise, having been completely in the moment with Elle's confessions before he walked over to the door and unlocked it. Dr. Lee barged through the door, looking almost insane. "You gotta come see this," she breathed.

Sam, Dean, and Elle followed Dr. Lee out of the clinic to where Duane and Sarge were standing outside. In the darkness, everything was eerily quiet. It was if everyone had just...vanished. Elle looked over to the telephone pole. CROATOAN was still carved into it. She looked up to the sky and wondered if history had just repeated itself.

The next morning Sam sat at the examination table as Elle slept curled up in a ball on the beanbag they had moved into the room. Dr. Lee sat at a microscope looking at the samples. "Well, it's been five hours and both of your samples are still clean...of the sulfur that is. I don't understand it, but you both dodged a bullet."

"But we were exposed. How could we not be infected?" Sam questioned.

"I don't know, but you're just not. I mean, Elle has a high level of hydrocodone in her blood. I'm going to go out on a limb here but I think…"

"Doc, we know," Sam said. "We're, we're working on it."

"I could recommend some great rehab facilities." Sam just nodded his head, despite the fact that he knew Elle would never go for it. She was stubborn as hell; but maybe the doctor wouldn't report her if they promised to seek out treatment.

Just to be sure, Dr. Lee grabbed the Tanner samples again and placed them under the microscope; but she quickly jerked away from the microscope. "What the hell!" She looked to Sam with an expression of amazement on her face. "Their blood. There's no trace of the virus. No sulfur-nothing."

The boys let Elle sleep for about another hour before Sam leaned down and gently shook her awake. Elle's eyes flung open and for a moment she was confused. She was confused by her surroundings. She was confused as to why the hell she was still alive...and why she wasn't out on a rampage to infect others. It didn't make sense.

Sam gently smiled at her before he said, "Dean and I were gonna drive and get some breakfast in the next closest town. You wanna come?"

Elle's stomach grumbled. She looked up at Sam with a slight smile and gave a slight nod of her head. Breakfast she could probably handle. Sam offered her a hand which she accepted and he helped her to her feet. Together, they walked outside to find Dean leaning against the Impala. He nodded his head in their direction, not saying anything. Sometimes, silent Dean was more dangerous than yelling Dean...and Elle wasn't sure how to read him, especially after everything she had revealed to him last night. She stopped in front of him and shifted awkwardly with her arms folded across her chest.

Dean looked off into the distance at Sarge and Duane getting into a truck before looking back to Sam and Elle. "I swear, I'm gonna lose sleep over this one," Dean said. "I mean why here? Why now? And where the hell did everyone go? It's like they friggin' melted."

"And why were Elle and I immune?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, you know what? That's a good question." Dean shook his head. "You now, I'm already starting to feel like this is the one that got away."

With that, the Winchesters piled into the Impala. Elle was surprised to find her duffel bag in the back seat. On it, was a sticky note that read Just in case… Elle pushed it across the seat and sat down in a once familiar place that now seemed so foreign. She took a deep breath. It was only breakfast.

Meanwhile...in the darkness, Duane sat in Sarge's truck with a metal bowl filled with blood. Beside him, Sarge lay dead against the steering wheel. Duane dipped his fingers into the bowl and started to stir the blood with a grin on his face. "It's over, you'll be pleased. I don't think any more tests are necessary."

A beating noise came from the bowl of blood, but the one who made the call understood perfectly. "The Winchester boy, definitely immune as expected."

There was another silence. "And the girl you ask?" Another brief pause, before he responded, "Also immune...quite...unexpected."


	32. Messin' With the Kid

The Winchester siblings sat in a diner in Portland eating breakfast. Elle sat beside Sam in the booth and Dean sat across from them. After what just happened back in Rivergrove, none of them were really big on talking. In fact all three of them were focused on the same thing: eating. Elle practically inhaled the food set before her. She ordered French Toast with strawberries and whipped topping on top along with a mug of hot chocolate. She was about to take a sip from the mug when pain began shooting through her body. She tightly clenched the mug and closed her eyes, trying to brace the pain that didn't seem to be subsiding. "Dean," Elle whispered. "Please?"

Dean looked to Sam and mouthed the words how long to his younger brother. Sam pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time before showing the phone to Dean. Three hours. It had only been three hours since Elle had her last Vicodin. Dean sighed, "No can do Elle-Belle." He then bit into a piece of bacon.

"I didn't survive a demonic plague just to die from Vicodin withdrawal," Elle hissed before she opened her eyes and glared at Dean. "Give me a damn pill."

"No. You can have one in an hour. The point of weaning you off this isn't to give you one whenever you want one."

"We never discussed weaning me off. You're supposed to be regulating not weaning."

"Elle," Sam spoke up. "The bottle says every 4-6 hours. We're just following what's printed."

"And what about the pain?"

Dean dug in his coat pocket before taking out a bottle of ibuprofen. He opened it and gently tapped two pills from the bottle into his hand before extending his hand to Elle. "Here," Dean said gruffly.

"It's obviously not going to help. If it did I wouldn't need the freaking Vicodin."

"Well, if you're not going to take them then I…"

"Just give 'em here." Elle held her hand out and Dean dropped a couple ibuprofen into her hand. She quickly knocked them back without even taking a swig of her hot chocolate. Sam and Dean looked at each other with a shared look of concern. Elle rolled her eyes. "What?"

"Elle, this isn't normal…" Sam started.

"Take a look around you, Sam. Nothing about our lives is, ever has been, or ever will be normal. Normal waved the Winchesters goodbye a long time ago and is never coming back for any of us."

An awkward silence overcame the Winchester siblings. The boys had to admit that Elle did have a point. Nothing about their lives had been normal since their mother died. Elle had never lived a normal life. Sam only had a few short, forgettable months of normal and Dean had the longest normal at only a few years. But all three of them knew that normal was something they would never truly get...at least, not for long.

Elle slurped her hot chocolate and Dean shot her a look, but she ignored him. When the waitress passed by them, Sam kindly asked for the check. When the waitress came back, Sam paid with one of the boys' fake credit cards and the three Winchesters headed back to the Impala. The youngest Winchester, crawled into the backseat, clutching her wrist was still throbbing. Was the pain ever going to go away?

Trying to not dwell on the pain, Elle laid her head down on her duffel bag and tried to go back to sleep, but Dean's classic rock tapes were forcing her to stay awake. Neither Sam nor Dean made any bother to talk to her. They probably didn't know what to say to her and were scared that she would take off again at the drop of a hat. It was a valid enough reason, but not a valid enough one to practically ignore her.

Eventually, Dean pulled the car over to the side of the road. "Stretch break," he grunted. "Sammy, grab the beer." Dean then exited the car and took a few paces away from the Impala, stretching his bowlegs.

Sam looked over his shoulder back at his sister. "You coming?"

"Why should I? I already know you're not gonna let me drink," Elle groaned.

"Just c'mon."

Elle sat up and eyed Sam suspiciously. "This better not be a piss-poor attempt at an intervention or something."

"Good Lord, you're paranoid," Sam said with a slight chuckle, shaking his head. "Do you really think we had time to plan for an intervention? We barely had time to get you the Coke in the cooler, let alone plan anything."

"Sammy-cooler. Chop. Chop." Dean called from outside, clapping his hands together before walking further away. Sam looked to his sister once more and rolled his eyes at Dean's comment before he stepped out of the Impala.

Elle sighed before she pulled her boots back on, leaving them untied. She turned to dig in the cooler which sat on the seat beside her. True to his word, a Coke was in the cooler: the kind in the glass bottle. She would have preferred a Dr. Pepper, but a Coke would do. She pulled it out, popped the top off, and then walked outside, shuffling her feet so that her boots wouldn't fall off.

Sam walked beside his little sister, carrying the cooler. He looked over at his sister every now and then, which made her slightly uncomfortable. "Take a picture. It'll last longer," Elle commented, slightly tripping over her bootstring.

The middle Winchester sibling slightly chuckled at his sister before he looked straight ahead. "I-I'm really glad you're back, Elle. I've missed you," Sam said with a slight smile on his face. "We both have."

Elle's shook her head. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Elle, we're family. Nothing changes that."

"I think everything I confessed yesterday changes everything." Elle bit her bottom lip and looked to see Dean come to a stop and lean against a fence. "Especially with him."

"Dean will get over it."

"And you?"

"I can't say that I liked hearing it, but I get it. You and Dad never had the best relationship. He could be a real dick. But you're still grieving, Elle. I get that. Even Dean gets that. But you know how Dean is."

Elle didn't respond. Instead, she just took a sip of her soda. As they approached Dean, Sam set the cooler down on the ground and each of the boys pulled out a beer. Elle sat down in a small pile of leaves and leaned against the fence. Was this how it was going to be? Being back on the road with them? She already missed being away from them. She knew she loved her brothers, but she couldn't quite place her finger on what wasn't right about the situation.

The Winchesters stayed there in the silence for several minutes, taking in their serene surroundings. Elle closed her eyes and let the breeze wash over her as she slowly breathed in. For a moment, she managed to forget her pain, but only for a moment. "Dean, I need it."

Dean looked down at his little sister. Her pain was clearly evident across her face. He reached into his jacket pocket and looked at the pill bottle. He rolled it in his hands a couple of times before he opened it and tapped the bottle gently until half a pill popped out. He held it out for Elle to take. Elle quickly took it and swallowed it without putting up the argument he expected.

The oldest Winchester shifted his weight before he took another sip of his beer. He looked down at his sister. His glance then turned toward Sam. Dean sighed. "So, what do you guys think about going to the Grand Canyon?"

"What?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, you know all this driving back and forth across the country and I've never been to the Grand Canyon. Or we could go to T.J., or Hollywood and see if one of us can bang Lindsay Lohan."

"Since when have you wanted to just sightsee?" Elle asked looking up at her brother quizzically. "You're always the one keeping us on track to the next job."

"I like sightseeing just as much as either of you. And I just keep thinking that maybe we should take a break from all this. We've-we've been through so much, why can't we live life for a bit? Why do we gotta get stuck with all the responsibility?"

It was Sam, who didn't quite buy what Dean was selling-especially since Dean refused to make eye contact with either of his siblings. Sam shook his head. "No, there's something more to it than that. What is it? Whatever it is, Elle and I are here to help you carry it. We're family, that's what we do."

Dean shook his head. "No. I can't do that. I promised."

"Who did you promise?"

Dean didn't say anything. He stood there staring at his beer bottle. Elle slowly got to her feet and stood beside Dean, watching him carefully. "There's only one person, Dean would make a promise like that to. A promise that he wouldn't break even for us," Elle answered before Dean could. "Dad. You promised Dad, didn't you?"

"Is that true Dean?" Sam asked. Dean slowly nodded his head, not looking at either of his siblings. "Dean, you can tell us."

Slowly, Dean exhaled before looking up at the sky and then back to the leaves on the ground. "Before Dad died, he told me something. Told me something about each of you."

"What did he tell you?" Sam and Elle asked simultaneously.

"That he wanted me to watch out for both of you. To take care of you guys."

"Dad's told you that a million times," Sam said.

"It was different this time." Dean turned toward Elle. "He told me what you said last night...that you came back for a reason. That your time of grace needed to be fulfilled."

Elle's widened at the direct quote. Dean could have only known that if either she or her father had told him that-and she certainly hadn't. Elle's brow furrowed. "You knew this entire time?"

"Of course I knew. I had to know to keep you safe...but you just wouldn't let me do my friggin' job. Do you really hate me that much?" Dean's words cut through her. Here she had been thinking that it was Dean that was hating her when he had been thinking the same thing about her hating him.

Elle couldn't find the words to say. So, Sam jumped into the conversation. "What about me?" Sam asked interrogating his brother. "What did he say about me?"

Dean took another sip of his beer. "Might as well," Dean grumbled to himself and took another swig of beer. He then turned to face Sam. "He said that I need to save you."

Sam's expression changed. Elle couldn't tell if he was angry or worried. "Save me from what?"

Sam looked at his brother, demanding answers, but Dean only turned and looked at Elle. He couldn't possibly voice those words to Sam's face. "He said that I had to save you and that if I couldn't I'd…"

"You'd what, Dean?" Sam turned Dean so that he was facing his brother instead of his sister.

Dean hesitated for a second before saying, "That I'd have to kill you, Sam. He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy."

There was a moment of silence that one could have heard a pin drop. Elle was trying to process Dean's words as Sam furthered, "Kill me? Did he say anything about having to kill Elle too?"

Dean looked at Sam, his eyes were watering a little. He shook his head no and watched Elle breathe a small sigh of relief. But Dean couldn't help but think, nothing about me killing her. Words he couldn't dare voice in front of either of them.

"What the hell is this all supposed to mean?" Sam questioned.

"I don't know," Dean said shaking his head. "I don't know."

"I mean, he must have had some kind of reason for saying it, right? Did he know the demon's plans for me? Am I supposed to go Darkside or something? What else did he say, Dean?"

"Sam," Elle sighed as she folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the wooden railing.

"God, Elle-you sure turn fast," Sam scoffed. "I was defending Dean to you a few minutes ago and now you're the one defending him."

"It's not like that, Sam." Elle shifted her weight. "I-I just, I just don't think that now is the time to be ganging up on Dean."

"Is that you talking or is it the Vicodin?" Sam narrowed his eyes at his sister and Elle's eyes widened.

"Hey, don't take your anger out on her. It's me you're pissed at," Dean grumbled, giving Sam's shoulder a little shove.

Sam shook his head in disbelief. "You're right. It is you I'm pissed at. How could you not have told me, Dean?"

"Because it was Dad, Sam. He begged me not to tell either of you. For some damn reason, he thought it was better that way."

"Did you?"

"It doesn't really matter what I think."

"God! Take some responsibility, for yourself Dean. You had no right to keep this from me!"

"You think I wanted this? Huh? I wish to God he never opened his mouth. Then I wouldn't have to walk around with this screaming in my head all day!"

Both boys became silent. Neither was sure what to say to the other. It took them several minutes to realize that Elle had run-off while they were arguing. "Dammit," Dean muttered under his breath before he took off in a sprint toward the Impala, leaving Sam behind. "Not again."

But much to his relief, he found Elle sitting in the backseat of the Impala crying. He made sure she didn't see him as he moved to lean against the trunk of the car. Everything was so messed up. Dad had really screwed things up for the three of them. Sometimes, Dean couldn't help but wonder if Elle had the right idea in the first place-to run from it all. Although, he would never admit that to her. He had to be strong for her, despite the fact that at times he felt like breaking down as easily as she did.

As Elle sat in the car sniffling, slowly stopping the tears that were freely falling, her cell phone buzzed in her bag. Knowing that neither Sam nor Dean would likely be texting her, she pulled the phone out of her bag knowing that it was safe to check.

She flipped open her phone and checked the text. Her brow furrowed. The text read: its Missy. Git 2 New Ulm, Minasoda ASAP.

Elle texted back Why? Before she wiped roughly at her tear-stained face with the sleeve of her shirt. She had to admit that she was curious as to why Missy Bender, the girl whom she helped save months ago, was texting her. But a few minutes later she got her response.

Pleeze! Ill tell u wen u git heer.

Elle sighed, clearly Missy's spelling could use some improving, but miracles weren't worked overnight. Hell, Elle wasn't sure miracles were even worked at all. But she texted, I'll see what I can do. I can't make any promises, Missy.

I need u heer. Need ur help with sumthin. No brothers. Jest u.

She shook her head. It almost sounded like some sort of trap. Had she been in a different mindset, she probably would have cared. But these days, she felt so numb to the world that she didn't even care. Elle leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. She just wished it would all go away...especially the pain. She grabbed her wrist which ached. It was probably more of a mental thing seeing as Dean had just given her a Vicodin, but she couldn't persuade herself that it didn't hurt nor did she want to admit to herself that the Vicodin wasn't helping anymore.

Elle released a breath and then began rummaging through the backseat for anything of hers, but she hadn't really taken anything out of her bag since she had plopped herself in the car. She grabbed her duffel bag and her Jansport messenger bag before she texted Missy once more: K.

The Winchester girl then stepped out of the Impala and was surprised to find Dean leaning against the trunk. He looked at her with a disappointed expression on his face and shook his head. "Were you even going to tell us?" Dean scoffed.

A bit annoyed, Elle retorted, "Road's that way." She pointed over her shoulder behind her. "You and Sam were that way." She pointed in the direction which she was facing. "But go ahead, jump to conclusions."

Dean shifted his weight and folded his arms across his chest, his chin jutting out in annoyance. "Looks like you're planning on leaving."

Elle readjusted the duffel bag on her back before setting it on the ground. "I was going to tell you, honest."

Dean shook his head. "And where are you going?"

The Winchester girl rubbed absently at the scars on her neck. She could tell him the truth, but then she would be risking him following after her. No, even after all their last few talks about honesty, Elle couldn't find herself to be fully honest with him. It was almost as if lying had become an addiction she needed to feed. Elle cleared her throat before saying, "Jo needs me on a case."

"Then we'll go with you." Elle bit her bottom lip at Dean's response. It was obvious he didn't think she should be going off on her own, but she couldn't tell him. She couldn't.

Elle shook her head. "Just us girls on this one."

Dean rubbed his face, his frustration visibly evident. "You're gonna have to stop running at some point."

"I'm not running. I'm doing a job, which I'm pretty sure is what you've been doing for the last couple months too. So why is it ok for you to throw yourself into the job, but not me?"

"Because this is never something you wanted."

"Maybe now I do." Elle shifted uncomfortably at the outright lie she had just told Dean. Although, to his credit, he didn't really seem to buy it. Elle sighed. "Dean, I just need to do this. Besides, you and Sam have some issues to work out."

"No, the three of us have issues we need to work out. But go ahead, leave, Elle. It's not like we didn't see it coming."

"That's not fair."

"Neither is you leaving all the damn time, but beggars can't be choosers, right?"

Elle shook her head and narrowed her eyes at her brother. "Tell Sam I said bye, 'kay?" Dean just stood there. "'Kay?" she repeated. Dean muttered something under his breath and nodded his head. Elle nodded her head back. She then took a step toward him, with her right hand outstretched.

"What? You want money?"

"Not that I wouldn't mind cash, but I think you know what I want." She motioned with her hand for him to cough it up. She wanted her bottle of Vicodin back from him. But Dean shook his head. "Dean, c'mon, hand it over."

"I can let you go, but I ain't gonna feed your addiction, Elle."

"Dammit, Dean. Give me my damn pills." Again, he shook his head. "You know that I can just go find a doctor and get more, right?"

"Then go ahead, but like I said, I ain't gonna do it."

Elle looked at her brother incredulously and slowly shook her head. "Unbelievable," she muttered. She ran her fingers through her wavy hair in frustration. After taking one last look at her older brother, she gave him a single wave and then swiftly turned on her heel. Elle Winchester once again walked away from her brothers. A move that was becoming her signature.

Despite the gnawing feeling in her stomach telling her not to do this, she continued walking away anyway. She walked for several miles until she came to the first town she could find. Her first stop was the nearest clinic. She needed her Vicodin. It didn't matter if it really worked or not anymore, she needed it. After she filled her new prescription, Elle walked to the bus station. She purchased a ticket to Mankato, as close as she could get to New Ulm. The trip from Mankato to New Ulm she'd just have to figure out later...and stealing a car was a definite possibility.

When her bus arrived, she moved to board it. She took one last look over her shoulder to see if she could see a black '67 Chevy Impala, but to her surprise, there wasn't one. Dean hadn't followed her. Part of her had almost wanted him to, but he hadn't. She had her answer as to where she stood with her older brother. Elle handed her ticket to the driver before she found her seat. Thankfully, there were only about a dozen people taking this trip, meaning Elle could sit with her feet up on the seat beside her. After popping a Vicodin, she leaned her head against against the window and fell asleep, knowing it was going to be a long, uncomfortable trip.

A little over a day later, Elle got off the bus in Mankato, Minnesota. She was sore and exhausted, but her journey wasn't done yet. According to the guy who sat across the aisle from her on the bus, New Ulm was about another forty minutes away by car. Knowing that there were security cameras at the bus station, she didn't want to steal a car from there. So, Elle slung her duffel bag and backpack over her shoulder and headed out to find a place to steal a car.

Elle remembered a time in her life when she would have been highly opposed to stealing a car, but that numb feeling seemed to take care of any anxiety she had once had. Elle finally settled on an old unlocked Buick. She looked around to make sure no one was watching her before she opened the door and slipped inside. It must have been her lucky day because she found the key to the ignition sitting in the empty ashtray. "Idiot," Elle muttered under her breath before she grabbed the key and started the car.

Elle arrived in New Ulm about fifty minutes later. The drive had taken longer than expected because it was snowing and she got stuck behind an old grandma driver who refused to any faster than ten miles under the speed limit. After pulling into the Target parking lot, Elle pulled out her cell phone and called the number she had for Missy. After several rings, Missy finally answered weakly, "Hello?"

"Hey, I'm at the Target," Elle responded. "Where do you want to meet?"

Missy whispered back, "The Glockenspiel."

"The what?" Elle coughed.

"The Glockenspiel. Go downtown. You can't miss it," the girl's voice was still in a whisper, which confused Elle.

The Winchester girl's brow furrowed. "Why are you whispering?" she asked, but Missy never responded. Instead, she hung up her phone. "Alright then, the Glockenspiel it is. Now just to find the friggin' thing." Elle popped a Vicodin into her mouth and swallowed hard before putting the Buick back into drive.

Downtown New Ulm wasn't really hard to miss unless you blinked. Elle parked the Buick in the near-empty parking garage and bundled up before she went to explore New Ulm to find the Glockenspiel. She made sure to bundle up. She wore her hat, mitten, scarf, leather jacket, and boots for her adventure. Despite her many layers, Elle was still rather cold as she wandered the heavily German influenced town. She passed a bunch of small shops and restaurants that she normally would never find herself in, but she found them rather intriguing. Maybe once she figured out what was bothering Missy she'd take her window-shopping to make the girl feel better.

When Elle finally reached the famous Glockenspiel, she found it to be located outside. A few older people, heavily bundled and armed with cameras stood around it, but Elle noticed a bundle that looked like Missy sitting on one of the benches. Missy took noticed of Elle and waved her to come over. Elle walked over to Missy, the freshly fallen snow crunching beneath her boots. She shivered as she sat down on the bench next to the younger girl.

The young girl quickly noticed Elle's scars. "What happened to you?" she asked.

"Long story," Elle said.

Missy then threw her arms around Elle, embracing her in a tight up. Elle smiled and wrapped an arm around the young girl she had bonded with when she had been taken by the Benders. It was almost funny-the Benders had kidnapped Elle so that she could be a mama for Missy and despite everything, Elle and Missy were close. Those crazy people had gotten what they wanted, but not the way they had wanted it.

In front of them, the Glockenspiel came to life. A song began to chime and the characters began to move. After several times around, Elle was already bored of watching it. "How long does this last?" she asked Missy.

"Half hour, I think," Missy responded, still leaning against Elle.

"Does it do anything else?"

"Don't think so."

Elle shook her head and chuckled. "This thing is definitely over-hyped. I mean, look at 'em." She pointed to the old people still taking pictures after several times around of the same thing. "How can they still be excited about this tourist trap? Although, I do think forcing Sam and Dean to sit through this for a half hour would be enjoyable to watch."

The Winchester girl smiled slightly thinking of putting them through the torture, but she wasn't sure that would ever happen given how things were going between them. She sighed and looked down at Missy. "How about you tell me whatever it is you need to tell me over some food? I'm starving." Missy sat up and nodded her head. "Where's good to eat around here?"

Missy shrugged. "Folks sayLamplighter is pretty good."

"You ever ate there before?" Missy shook her head. "Alright, Lamplighter is is, then." Elle stood up and Missy followed suit, still practically clinging to Elle. It was pretty obvious that something was bothering the girl. But then again, given how the girl had been raised...in a family of cannibals, the girl was bound to have some issues.

Elle wrapped her arm around Missy once more as the two girls walked across the fallen snow. "Now, you're gonna have to show me where it is."

"You passed it on your way here," Missy pointed out. "You couldn't have missed it."

"Well, apparently I did."

Missy led them to the restaurant. It wasn't too busy, but it wasn't dead either. Their waitress seated them in a booth and brought their sodas over before taking their food order and heading to wait on her other tables. Elle sipped her Dr. Pepper, watching Missy for a few moments as the girl slurped her Sprite. "So…" Elle started. "What's so urgent that you needed me here ASAP?"

The young girl looked over her shoulder, a move Elle recognized, before she leaned over the table a little more, and whispered low. "There's somethin' not right about my foster parents."

Elle nodded her head. "Missy, I hate to say it, but given how you were raised, no offense, everyone is gonna seem weird to you."

Missy shook her head. "That's not what I mean. I mean, there's something really wrong about them."

The Winchester girl's brow furrowed. "Are they hurting you?"

Again, Missy shook her head. "No...not yet anyway."

Elle had to admit that she was at a loss. She couldn't for the life of her decipher what Missy was trying to tell her. She sighed, "Missy, I'm afraid you lost me. What's going on?"

Their waitress returned with their food. She placed a burger and waffle fries in front of Elle. In front of Missy, she put a plate of chicken alfredo. Elle thanked their waitress before she looked at Missy. "You're just gonna have to spit it out plainly."

Missy picked up her fork and stared at her food for a moment, hesitant to continue. She then looked at Elle. "I-I saw somethin'." Elle nodded her head for Missy to continue. "I-I like to hide in the pantry an-and the other night while my foster parents were sittin' at the kitchen table, two people came in." Missy looked over her shoulder, clearly terrified of something. She then whispered softly, that Elle could barely hear, "They-they ate my foster parents."

Elle choked on one of her fries. She quickly gulped down some Dr. Pepper and watched Missy. Missy hadn't been exposed to the supernatural world yet and while she was worried about Missy, she wasn't about to kill any chance the girl had at a normal life. No, she was going to have to play coy on this one for a bit. "Maybe you were just seeing things. I mean, your family…"

"Too much blood for it not to be real. I saw their bodies lyin' there. But thet ain't the weird part. The next day, they was up makin' breakfast and talkin'...they was almost normal. But I know what I saw Elle and it ain't right. None of it makes a lick of sense. So, I run away. That was right before I texted you the other day."

"Missy, you can't just run away!"

"Don't you believe me?"

"I never said that. But what I do know is that after what you've been through, your mind can play tricks on you. Your pa and brothers...well, you know. You could just be projecting it onto your foster parents. Believe me, I've been there. Besides, sometimes, people throw away good things when they don't realize that's what they have."

"That's not what's happening" Missy pleaded.

Elle sighed and took a sip of her soda. "I said could, there's a difference."

"Can't I come with you?" Missy begged.

"Not legally and you can't just leave either. Now, I might be able to help you figure out if you're projecting or not."

"I already told you I ain't."

The Winchester girl put up her hands to stop Missy. "Let me finish. Now, like I said, I can help you out...but it's gonna involve having to see them again."

"No. I can't."

"Missy, just trust me. I know a few...tricks and if they come back negative, you're going to go back to your family and live a normal apple pie life. You're gonna do that for me because you actually get a chance to have it."

"And if your tricks work?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Missy grimaced. "That's my only choice?" Elle nodded her head and Missy sighed. "Fine, but I'm telling you I ain't making it up."

Once they had finished eating and Elle paid the bill. Missy carried her to-go container filled with her noodles as they walked to the car Elle had stolen earlier. Elle started the car and the girls sat there for a few minutes waiting for the car to warm up. "Nice car," Missy commented.

"It-uh-it's not mine. I'm borrowing it...from a friend," Elle lied, but she couldn't risk telling Missy she stole a car and exposing the world that threatened to destroy the child's chance at happiness. "Anyway, how do we get to your house?"

Rather reluctantly, Missy navigated Elle to the house her foster parents owned. They drove up Center Street and past Hermann the German until Missy finally pointed out the house. Elle pulled the Buick up to the curb. She rubbed her mittened hands for warmth as she surveyed the house in front of her. It seemed normal, but shapeshifters could play normal. She had plenty of experience with that. That would require silver to diagnose. Elle had holy water in her bag to check for demons. Salt or iron would help check for ghost possession, but to the degree Missy was talking was rare. But one couldn't be too safe.

"So now what?" Missy asked.

Elle gave the girl a soft smile. "We go inside. Just let me grab a few things." The girls exited the car. Elle grabbed her Jansport bag from the trunk. She quickly popped a Vicodin before double-checking to make sure everything she needed was in her bag. "Missy?"

"Yeah?" the young girl asked, walking toward the back of the trunk.

"Do your foster parents have silver? Like a really nice set of silverware they use only on special occasions?" Missy nodded her head. "Okay, good. Now, when we run into your foster parents, I'm gonna have to lie about who I am. Got it?"

Missy's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I'll still be Elle, but I'm with Child Protective Services. Our story is that I found you and am bringing you back, but I'm staying for dinner to keep an eye on you. You got that?" Elle showed Missy her fake badge.

"Where'd you get that?" Missy questioned.

"Long story...now, do you got it?" Missy nodded her head in response to Elle's question. "Good. Now, let's go."

Missy looked terrified, but Elle gave her a small reassuring smile before they walked down the sidewalk toward the house. Elle stood a little taller before she rang the doorbell. There was no answer. She twisted the door handle and it swung open. Elle looked to Missy and shrugged her shoulders before she crossed the threshold into the house. "Hello?" Elle called.

Again, there was no response. Elle walked into the living room and examined the pictures on the mantle. Missy actually looked happy in the pictures with the man and woman who were her foster parents. "They look nice."

"They were okay," Missy said with a shrug.

"Looks pretty normal to me," Elle said pulling her hat and mittens off. Missy opened her mouth to say otherwise, but Elle held up her hand to stop her. 'I know...they were."

"So when are you gonna do your tricks?"

Elle shifted and glanced out the front window to watch a car drive by. She then turned to Missy. "Patience, my young Padawan. We have to wait until they're actually here. But since we're here, why don't you show me where it took place."

Missy grabbed hold of Elle's hand before she walked her back to the kitchen. "I was in there," Missy said pointing to the pantry. She then took a few more steps and stopped. "It happened right here."

Elle scrutinized the kitchen. Nothing seemed off about it. She looked at the windows. "Hey, Missy, why don't you go close the blinds for me." Missy did as she was told while Elle dug in her bag for a blacklight. Sometimes watching redundant crime show procedurals came in handy every once in awhile.

Once the room was dark, Elle turned on her blacklight. She shined it on the floor, but she sat nothing. She then walked around the room with it, examining the floors and cupboards. The only place she spotted blood was on the cupboard door where they kept the Band-Aids. Elle sighed and turned it off. "It's clean, Missy," Elle said.

"I'm not lying. It actually happened."

"I never said you were lying. I'm just saying that there isn't any blood. That's all."

Missy looked disappointed and Elle felt bad for her. She knew what it was like to have people think you were a liar, but she couldn't shatter Missy's innocence on the situation. Not yet. She had enough taken from her in her life that Elle couldn't do that to Missy quite yet. "So now what?" Missy asked.

"We make dinner...and then we wait."

Elle and Missy flipped through a cookbook until they discovered they had all the ingredients for chili in the house. So they dumped the ingredients into a crockpot and let it set until Mr. and Mrs. Rhode came home. As they let it cook, Missy showed Elle her bedroom and the rest of the house. Everything seemed normal, but Elle needed to be sure for Missy's sake. While they waited, Elle accidentally fell asleep on the couch. But Missy was sure to wake her up.

When the Rhodes finally returned home, they were surprised to see Elle standing in their house. Elle quickly took out her fake CPS badge and showed it to them. "Hi, I'm Elle Dean," the Winchester girl introduced herself. "I'm with CPS. We found your daughter Missy and I wanted to be sure everything happened smoothly."

"Thank you for finding our Missy," Mrs. Rhode said shaking Elle's hand. "We've missed her so much. That little girl has brought a new purpose to our lives."

"My wife's quite right. Missy is our joy," Mr. Rhode added.

Elle looked at Missy who just started blankly at her foster parents. The Winchester girl nodded her head toward the Rhodes. She was trying to encourage Missy to apologize, as they had planned. "I'm sorry," Missy said in a monotone voice. Elle looked at her to continue. Missy sighed before continuing in monotone, "I'm sorry I ran away. It will never happen again." It wasn't as quite as convincing as Elle would have liked, but it would have to do.

"I hope you don't mind, but we made some chili while you were gone," Elle said sweetly to the Rhodes. "Character building for young Missy, here."

"How sweet is that, honey?" Mrs. Rhode said turning toward her husband. "Missy's back and dinner's made." Mr. Rhode grabbed his wife's hand and smiled.

Missy looked at Elle, but Elle ignored the younger girl's looks. "And Missy here even set the table. Why don't you folks have a seat and I'll dish things up."

The Rhodes and Missy sat down at the dinner table while Elle went to the kitchen to get the meal ready. She scooped-up four bowls of chili. Then she grabbed the Morton's salt container and dumped half the container into a bowl for Mrs. Rhode and the other half into a bowl of Mr. Rhode. Elle stirred them vigorously. She left hers and Missy's bowls salt free. She looked over her shoulder before popping another Vicodin. The number of pills she was taking was getting out of control. She was going to have to go to a clinic soon.

Elle then turned on the tap water and let it run while she dumped holy water into two of the glasses before putting regular tap water in the other two glasses. Missy had been sure to set the table with the silver earlier. Everything was set. Elle carried the bowls of soup and set them on the table before returning for the water glasses. She then took her space beside Missy.

"Let's say grace," Mr. Rhode said. The Rhodes folded their hands and bowed their heads. Elle sat there uncomfortably and Missy looked at Elle while Mr. Rhode said, "Come, Lord, Jesus be our guest and let these gifts to us be blessed. Oh, give thanks unto the Lord for he is good, for his mercy endures forever. Amen."

"Amen," Elle added as an afterthought. Her eyes were then glued to Mr. and Mrs. Rhode to see how they responded to her traps.

Mrs. Rhode reached for her silver spoon. She slowly gripped it...and nothing happened. Alright, Mrs. Rhode not a shifter-check. Mr. Rhode reached for his glass of water and took a giant swig. Mr. Rhode, not a demon-check.

"You gonna eat dear?" Mrs. Rhode said to Elle as she dipped her spoon into the bowl of chili. Elle cleared her throat and nodded her head before she reached for her glass of water, keeping an eye on the Rhodes.

Mr. Rhode touched his spoon and nothing. Mr. Rhode, not a shifter-check. Mrs. Rhode took a bite of the chili. A surprised and disgusted look spread across her face, but she swallowed hard. Mrs. Rhode, not possessed by a vengeful spirit-check. "My that's salty," Mrs. Rhode said reaching for her water and taking another swig.

"Missy, how much salt did you put in?" Elle said turning toward Missy. Missy just shrugged her shoulders.

"Let me give it a try," Mr. Rhode said taking a bite of chili. He too swallowed hard, but nothing happened. "Yup, salty," he said.

Missy looked at Elle hopefully, but the Winchester girl shook her head. It looked like everything was normal and Missy's expression turned sad. It appeared that Missy could just have been making the whole thing up. They had leads before that turned out to be nothing before. Although, it was nice to see that Missy had a kind loving family.

"How about some tapioca pudding?" Mrs. Rhode asked with a sweet smile before she walked to the kitchen and came back with four bowls of tapioca pudding.

"Thank you," Elle said and Mrs. Rhode nodded.

"How long do you plan on staying?" Mr. Rhode asked Elle.

Elle had just taken a bite of her pudding. She held up a finger to give her a moment. She swallowed and took a glass of water before she spoke. "I was planning on having a conversation with Missy after dinner and then I'll be out of your hair."

"No need to rush. Take your time now," Mrs. Rhode said before taking a bite of her tapioca pudding.

Once dinner was done and the dishes had been done, Elle took Missy upstairs so that they could talk in private. Missy must have known it was coming because she had looked disappointed since dinner. Elle sat down on Missy's bed and Missy reluctantly sat behind her. "I know what I saw," Missy whispered.

"Missy, sweetie, I think you have a really good thing going here," Elle sighed.

"Why don't you believe me? I'm not lying!"

Elle looked at Missy sympathetically. "I know you believe that you're telling the truth, I get that. Sometimes things just don't work out like we planned them. I know you've wanted to go with me since I rescued you."

"That's not what this is about," Missy argued. "I do want to go with you but that's not why."

"Missy, I told you earlier. I would give anything to have had a chance at a normal life. You got one. You-you should take the chance given to you."

"But Elle…"

"I'll tell you what, if it makes you feel better, I'll swing by tomorrow morning and take you out for breakfast." Missy numbly nodded her head. "If you get scared tonight, just call me. Okay? I mean, I'm not gonna come barging in or anything. But I'll stay on the phone with you." Missy nodded her head again. "I gotta go. I'll see you tomorrow."

With tears staining her cheeks, Missy wrapped her arms around Elle. "It'll be fine. You'll see." Elle's vision blurred as she hugged Missy back. She rubbed at her eyes and yawned before she stood up. "I'm gonna go now." Missy nodded her head and Elle escaped downstairs.

Elle quietly slipped out the door, waving to Mr. and Mrs. Rhode as she took her leave. She hopped into the stolen Buick and drove through New Ulm to find a motel. After deciding upon the Microtel, Elle checked in and plopped onto the bed. She was exhausted. Who knew dealing with a child could be so exhausting. She did feel bad for Missy, but everything seemed normal. Maybe Missy would come around yet.

The Winchester girl popped another Vicodin and relaxed back onto her pillows when her phone started to vibrate. It was Missy. Slowly, she opened her flip phone and pressed it to her ear. "Hello?" Elle mumbled.

"Elle, I'm scared," Missy whispered with the phone pressed tightly against her face. The fear in her voice was evident.

Elle yawned. "Missy, what's going on?"

"It's quiet."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"I'm scared."

The Winchester girl yawned again. "Tell you what, we'll both just leave our phones on...neither of us will hang up and then I can hear everything that's going on. How does that sound?"

"Okay," Missy sniffled. "But I wish you were here."

"Missy, you should really get some sleep." Elle was half-asleep herself as she slurred her words. She listened to Missy's sniffling and within a few minutes, Elle had fallen asleep. She didn't even wake up when Missy's screams echoing from her phone.

When Elle awoke the next morning, she was rather groggy and her body ached all over with pain. She rolled over and popped a Vicodin before rolling onto her back again. She literally had to force herself to get up and shower. She blowed her hair dry so that it didn't freeze in the frigid temperatures. She dressed in a red plaid shirt, white sweater, jeans, and her brown boots. She left her hair down as she pulled on her winter gear.

Elle started the Buick and then went back to the hotel to wait while it warmed up. Ten minutes later, when she was sure it was warm, she hopped in the car and drove to the Rhodes' place. As she walked up to the house, she could see her breath in the air. She rang the doorbell and waited. No response. A minute later, Elle rang the doorbell again. "Hello!" Elle called.

The door swung open to reveal Mrs. Rhode. The woman wiped away a streak of blood from her lip. "Yes? Miss Dean, how can I help you?" Mrs. Rhode asked.

"I-um-I'm here to pick up Missy. We made plans for breakfast."

"Oh," Mrs. Rhode said as if it were news to her. "Missy...she's...at school."

Elle looked at the woman suspiciously as she folded her arms over her chest. "It's Saturday. There isn't school today."

Mrs. Rhode stared at Elle, narrowing her eyes after having been caught in her lie. "She has detention. Missy's been acting up at school. Sometimes that happens to foster children."

The Winchester girl shifted her weight. Something wasn't right about this. "So you wouldn't mind if I wait here for her, then."

"No, I very much would mind. Good day to you, Miss Dean." With that, Mrs. Rhode slammed the door shut, leaving Elle standing alone on the front porch.

Her brain was still somewhat groggy from the Vicodin, but Elle tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Mrs. Rhode with blood on her face. Missy missing. Missy seeing her parents being eaten. Think. Think. Think. She couldn't concentrate. She pulled out her phone and called the first person she thought could help. "Bobby!" Elle gasped through the phone.

"Ellie are you alright? The boys said…" Bobby Singer started.

"Bobby, shut up for a minute. I need your help. I can't think straight. What-what eats people and can shift to look like a human. Silver, holy water, and salt don't affect it."

"Elle, you should know that sounds like a ghoul." Bobby's words felt like a punch in the gut. She did know. She should have known...and now Missy might be dead because she was so scatter-brained and focused on giving Missy an apple pie life. "Elle, Elle-"

She didn't listen to what else Bobby had to say. She hung up on him and ran back to her Buick to pull the gun out of her bag. She walked back to the house, jimmied the lock, and then slowly entered the house. One of Missy's screams echoed through the house. Elle's heart began to race...Missy was still alive.

Mr. Rhode yelled for Missy to shut up. It sounded like it was coming from the basement. Trying to think quickly, Elle ran to the kitchen and grabbed a meat cleaver, just in case. She shoved it in her inside jacket pocket before she made her way to the basement.

Slowly, Elle descended the stairs with her gun drawn. She stayed tight to the wall, quietly moving downward. Her heart was rapidly beating. It was practically in her throat. When she was on the concrete floor, she turned so that she could see the ghouls taunting Missy who was squirming. "Playtime is over...now it's time to eat," Mrs. Rhode said.

"Back away from her, you creepy-ass pieces of shit," Elle hissed, her gun aimed at them.

The Rhodes turned to face Elle. The way to kill a ghoul was decapitation. So, she aimed a shot and Mr. Rhode and his head exploded against the cinder block wall. She took another shot, but Mrs. Rhode had hunkered down out of Elle's line of sight. "I knew you weren't with CPS," Mrs. Rhode hissed. "You're a hunter."

Elle saw that Missy's blood was pouring into a bowl. Not knowing where Mrs. Rhodes was, Elle moved to help Missy. She was just about to press down on Missy's gash when her gun was knocked out her hand and an arm wrapped around her neck as the other hand snaked around her gun arm. "You stupid girl," Mrs. Rhodes hissed. "You killed my mate."

"Yeah, so not sorry about that one," Elle laughed disparagingly.

Mrs. Rhode held her tightly forcing her to watch as Missy lay there struggling. But Elle reached for the meat cleaver with her left hand. She quickly turned around, using all her momentum to hack the ghoul's head off with the cleaver. Blood splattered over Elle and the wall behind Ghoul Mrs. Rhode. She dropped the cleaver, so that it landed blade down into the ghoul's body. "Suck it," Elle muttered at the ghoul.

"Elle! Elle!" Missy cried weakly. Elle quickly turned toward Missy. She ripped her jacket off and then her white sweater. The Winchester girl used her sweater as a makeshift tourniquet and gauze over Missy's wounds. Elle then took Missy in her arms and held her tight, both girls crying.

"I'm so sorry," Elle cried, holding Missy close to her. "I'm sorry I didn't think of it sooner."

"Wh-What were they?" Missy asked.

Elle wiped a tear away with the sleeve of her flannel shirt. "Ghouls, Missy. They were ghouls." Missy's eyes widened. The veil had been shattered. "We need to get you to the hospital. Can you climb onto my back?"

Missy grumbled as she struggled to climb onto Elle's back. She held on tightly with one arm and Elle wrapped her arms around Missy's legs for a more secure hold. She then climbed the stairs before heading out to the Buick. Elle opened the back door of the car and slowly dropped Missy off in the back. She then ran around the car and into the driver's seat to rush Missy to the hospital.

Quickly, she shifted the car into gear, trying to navigate them to the hospital. "Missy, you gotta stay awake. You hear me?" Elle called. Missy groaned. "Missy, I hate to do this, but I have to ask you to lie again. They're gonna ask you what happened and you can't tell them what actually happened. Do you understand? You-you gotta tell them it was a rabid dog, because they're not gonna believe what it actually was."

Missy barely choked out the word, "Okay."

When Elle drove into the parking lot of the Emergency Room, she pulled up right to the entrance. She ran until she was near the open automatic doors and shouted, "Help! We need a doctor out here!"

Help rushed outside with a stretcher and lifted Missy onto it before running her inside to be examined. "Ma'am?" one of the nurses asked Elle, but she wasn't paying attention. "Ma'am? Are you alright?" The nurse's hand wrapped around Elle's arm.

"Hm? Yeah. I'm fine. This-this is Missy's blood," Elle said.

"Ma'am, I need to ask you what happened." Elle slowly nodded her head and followed the woman inside.

Elle played twenty questions with the woman. Who was she? How did she know Missy? How did she know the Rhodes? What happened? Was the dog dead? Elle tried her best to answer the questions as vaguely as she could, not wanting to trip herself up in the lies. Pain shot through Elle's body as she answered the questions and she was glad when the interrogation was over.

The Winchester girl numbly walked back into the waiting room. She popped a Vicodin to help with the pain before she sat down in one of the charis. It was then the floodgates broke. Her addiction has almost cost Missy her life. It was her fault Missy was back there fighting for her life. If only she would have recognized them as ghouls...no matter how hard they were to spot. She still should have recognized it.

It was nearly two hours later before a doctor came out to talk to Elle. He told her that Missy had lost a lot of blood, but she was going to pull through. She might have a few scars on her arms, but she should be okay. He told Elle that she had helped save Missy's life by bringing her in-had they waited for an ambulance, Missy could have died. But Elle didn't feel like a hero. Instead, she broke down again in the doctor's arms.

When Elle's tears had subsided, the doctor let Elle go back and see Missy. The little girl looked so pale and weak when Elle walked into her room. "Missy, I'm so sorry," Elle whispered as she sat at Missy's bedside.

"You saved me," Missy said hoarsely.

"No," Elle sniffled. "It's my fault you're in here. I-I should have known better."

Missy shook her head and slowly reached for Elle's hand. She gave Elle's hand a weak squeeze with a faint smile on her face. "She's going to be in here a few days," one of the nurses said, walking into the room. "We're going to move her to one of the hospital room."

"Can Elle come with?" Missy asked weakly.

"Is Miss Elle family?"

"Elle's my sister," Missy said smiling at Elle. Elle sniffled. She was touched by Missy's words. The nurse simply nodded her head giving Elle permission to stay with Missy. Elle slept in the chair in Missy's room, keeping a close eye on her. She wasn't going to let that girl out of her sight...unless it was with someone she trusted.

A few days later, when Missy was released from the hospital, a brown pickup truck pulled into the New Ulm Hospital parking lot. Elle waited for the driver outside, with her hands shoved in her pockets. Ellen stepped out of the truck and walked over to Elle. The older woman embraced the younger in a hug. "I'm sorry for calling. I didn't know who to call and I couldn't think of anything else," Elle said, hugging Ellen. "I mean, it was you or Bobby and Missy's always needed a mama and…"

"Don't you worry your pretty little head none about it," Ellen said pushing a tendril of hair from Elle's face. "Now that she knows about our world, she needs a safe place. I'm more than willing to take her in. With Jo gone, I have the room."

"I'm sorry about Jo."

"Aw honey-girl, it's not your fault. Jo was bound to go whether you two met or not. Have you heard from her recently?"

"I talked to her a few days ago. She was on a hunt in Nevada, last I knew." Ellen nodded her head knowingly as Elle looked to the ground. "Everything is cleared with CPS?"

"They'll be makin' regular-like visits to the Roadhouse, but that shouldn't hurt nothing. It's just a business like any other."

Elle nodded her head and the two women stood there in silence for a moment. Elle looked up and said, "You wanna go meet Missy?"

"She knows about this, right?" Ellen asked cautiously.

The Winchester girl nodded her head. "Yeah, but she wants to go with me. It's just that I-I'm too messed up to raise a kid right now...maybe even ever. I'm not gonna put a kid through what my daddy did to me. She's such a sweet girl. She deserves better in life."

Ellen nodded her head knowingly before following Elle inside. Ellen and Elle found Missy sitting on her bed, dressed in a fresh pair of clothes. Her hair was in two French braids, which Elle had done earlier. Despite everything that had happened, Missy had come a long way since she had first met the Winchesters.

"Missy, I have someone I want you to meet," Elle said as she approached the younger girl. "This is Ellen. You're gonna go live with her." Missy looked up at Elle somewhat sadly. "You know I can't take you with me. I'm not ready for a responsibility like that. Ellen can give you a good life...a safe life. You'll be safe at the Roadhouse...not that you know about the supernatural world."

"But I wanna stay with you."

"Ellen cooks way better than I do. I bet she can make almost anything. You don't wanna put up with my crappy cooking." Elle softly smiled as she raised Missy's chin. "Is that a smile, I see?"

A full smile spread across Missy's face and Ellen took this as her cue to step forward. She held out her hand and Missy reached out and grabbed it. So far so good. Elle whispered something into Missy's ear and the young girl smiled. Missy jumped off the bed and hugged Ellen. Ellen laughed and hugged the young girl back.

The nurses helped Missy into a wheelchair. They were going to wheel her downstairs and down to the car. It was time for Missy to move on with her life...again. But this time, she wouldn't be so far removed. Missy was family and it was fitting that she remain with someone who was like family.

Once they got Missy downstairs and into Ellen's truck, Elle hugged the young girl. It took the young girl a little while to get go, but eventually she did. "You be good now, you hear?" Missy softly smiled and nodded her head.

Ellen then came over and hugged Elle. "Elle, where are you headed?" Ellen asked after she hugged the Winchester girl.

"I-I need to get myself better before I face anyone again. Just gotta make one stop before I do though." Ellen didn't ask anymore. She just nodded and hopped into the driver's side of the truck. The older woman and Missy waved and with that, they were gone.

The Winchester girl stood there for a moment watching them drive away. She shifted her stance and then pulled a piece of paper out of her jeans pocket. The words on the paper were written in John Winchester's scrawl. It was the note he had given her before he died. She had kept it and it was now time to see what he was so insistent about. She was headed to the address on the paper in Windom, Minnesota.


	33. Hey Brother

About an hour after Elle had left New Ulm, she pulled into Windom. Windom definitely had a small town feel to it, boasting under 5,000 residents, but it had a certain charm to it. Almost the type of place one could settle down in and form some roots. Not that Elle was ever going to have that opportunity. Not having a clue where she was going, Elle stopped at the first gas station she found and asked for directions to this Adam Milligan's house.

The gas station clerk scrutinized the address for a moment before he began describing the directions. "Take a right at the second light. Just past the McDonald's, take a left, drive until you get to the big rock and take another right. Follow that road down for a time and then you can't miss it."

Elle opened her mouth to say something, but she quickly closed it. How hard would it have been to use street names? That must not have been the way they did things around here. She just nodded her head and walked out of the gas station trying to remember the confusing directions, muttering them to herself. Once she was back in the stolen vehicle, she took her cellphone out of her pocket. She had a text from Ellen, but she was surprised she didn't have a text from either of her brothers. Granted, she expected the radio silence from Dean, but not Sam. Not wanting to focus on her issues with her brothers, she shoved the phone back into her pocket and pulled out her bottle of Vicodin. She popped several pills and pulled the car into drive.

Nearly an hour later, after going the wrong way several times, Elle finally pulled up to the Milligan house. It didn't look like anything special. She anxiously scratched her scars wondering why her father wanted her to come here. Why? Why had she actually followed his orders? Nothing made sense. It seemed like the world was spinning madly on without her and she wanted nothing more than to get off the ride and puke. To try and calm her nerves, Elle popped another Vicodin and made sure she looked acceptable in the rearview mirror before she slowly headed out.

Slowly, Elle trudged down the path to the house. She got as far as the stairs before her nerves got the better of her and she quickly turned around and sprinted back to the stolen car. She sat inside the car and looked at her shaking hands. Maybe she couldn't do this. God, she was so freaking screwed up. Just as her hand reached for the gear shift, there came a knock on the driver's side window. Elle screamed and froze for a second before she turned to see a teenage boy with light brown hair and bright blue eyes. Elle rolled the window down by hand and forced a smile.

"Can I help you?" the boy asked as he shifted the backpack on his shoulder.

Elle's heart began to race. She held up a finger to give her a moment as she rushed out of the car, nearly hitting the boy with the door. She ran to the back of the car and threw up, her hair falling in her face and accidentally splattering in it. "Ugh, disgusting," Elle muttered as she leaned against the trunk of the car.

Footsteps crunched in the gravel until she could see a pair of shoes beside her. "Here," the boy said putting a water bottle into Elle's view. "I didn't open it. Just don't tell my mom. She's always yelling at me about not drinking enough water."

Elle accepted the water bottle and opened it. She took a sip and swished the water in her mouth before spitting it out. She then chugged the rest of the bottle of water until there was no more liquid inside. "Thanks," Elle said, standing upright once more. She looked at the boy who was quite a few inches taller than her despite the fact that she was fairly certain he was younger than her. "Well, that was awkward."

"A little," the boy said with a shrug of his shoulders before he looked at the scars on Elle's face which were clearly visible. The rest were covered by her winter apparel. He shook his head and then asked, "So, are you gonna tell me what you're doing here?"

"I'm, uh, I'm looking for someone. His name is, uh…" Elle pulled the crumpled piece of paper from John Winchester out of her pocket. "Adam Milligan. I'm looking for someone named Adam Milligan."

The boy nodded his head. "Well, you found him." There was a moment of silence before he asked. "Why are you looking for me?"

Of course, he went for the hard-hitting questions right away. Elle didn't want to explain the complicatedness of the situation to him because, to be honest, she didn't know why she was looking for him. She twisted her foot in the gravel and shoved her hands in her fleece jacket before she responded, "John Winchester told me to look you up."

Adam's brow furrowed for a moment before he looked at her with a scrutinizing glance. "You're not, Elle, are you?"

Elle's eyes widened in shock. She couldn't formulate the words to say, so she just nodded her head rather vigorously. Adam's face softened into a small smile. "I was wondering when you were going to show. He said you would come eventually, but you look different than the picture he showed me."

This time it was Elle's brow that furrowed. She had never known her father to carry a single picture of her. "Picture?" she asked.

Adam nodded his head. "Yeah, why don't you come inside. He gave me something to give to you."

"He left you something for me?" Elle's thoughts were spinning a million miles a minute. Why would her father give this kid something for her? None of it made any sense. Then again, things never seemed to make much sense as far as John Winchester was concerned.

Adam nodded his head. He kicked some gravel before he motioned with his head for Elle to follow him inside. Slowly, she walked behind him, with her hands in her pockets. She tried to wrap her head around the entire situation, trying to figure it out on her own, but nothing seemed to make sense. Nor could she, for the life of her figure out how this Adam kid played into things. He led Elle through the back door and into a modest kitchen. He set his backpack down at the kitchen table before he walked to the refrigerator. "You want anything?" he asked.

Elle shook her head no as she closed the door and then stomped the snow off her boots. He accepted her answer as he pulled a slice of leftover pizza out of the fridge and began to eat it cold. Elle shook her head. He seemed almost like one of her brothers, but she brushed it off and took a few steps inside. She examined the place. Nothing of the supernatural variety was apparent. If Elle had to guess, these people were normal. So why would her father send her here? She spotted a picture of the boy on the fridge. "Is that your mother?" Elle asked, pointing to the woman in the photograph with him.

"Yeah," Adam responded, wiping pizza sauce off his face. "Now, let's go get you that box. It's upstairs in my bedroom. Mom doesn't know I have it."

Elle followed Adam upstairs, more confused than ever. It was killing her inside, she had to know. She had to know how Adam Milligan played into the picture. "How is it you know John Winchester?" she asked.

Adam stopped on the upstairs landing and looked over his shoulder back at Elle. "John's my father," he said matter-of-factly.

The confession hit Elle like a ton of bricks. No. He couldn't possibly be telling the truth. Her eyes widened as she braced herself against the stair railing to keep from falling. "Your what?" Elle gasped.

"My father and I'm guessing you're my sister. Dad never mentioned having a sibling, but I kinda put two and two together. You're John's kid too, right?"

Elle blinked slowly. "I...I...yeah."

Adam smiled. "I always wanted a brother or sister."

"How old are you?" A million unanswered questions and that was the first one that popped out.

He must have known what she was trying to get at because he said. "John never told you about me, did he?" Elle shook her head before Adam responded. "Sixteen. Turned sixteen back in September. How old are you?"

Elle bit her bottom lip before she responded. "Twenty-two. I'll be twenty-three in June, which is still like six months away, so I guess you really didn't need to know that."

"Cool." Adam seemed to easily accept the information, which surprised her. "You going to school?"

School? What kind of person did this kid think she was? Elle shook her head. "No, I, uh, followed in the family business." She put special emphasis on the words family business to gauge how much the kid actually knew.

Adam nodded his head knowingly. "So, you're a mechanic like John?"

Elle stifled back a laugh. "Oh god no. I'm terrible with cars. I know how to drive them and fill them up, that's it." Adam's brow furrowed in confusion. It was then that Elle realized that he really didn't know anything about her lifestyle. John's lifestyle. Feeling the need to save face, she pulled her hair behind her ears and said. "The family business on my mom's side."

This seemed to appease Adam because he continued walking upstairs and led her toward his bedroom. Once inside the bedroom, Elle almost felt a sense of jealousy. On the kid's dresser was a picture of him and John at a Minnesota Twins baseball game. The more she examined the room, the more apple pie it looked like the kid was and that made her jealous, but she refused to show it. It wasn't Adam's fault that John had dragged her into the lifestyle while choosing to keep Adam out of it.

Adam walked to his closet and dug in the back corner before he pulled out a small cedar box. He looked at it curiously and shook it before he handed it to Elle. "Never was able to open it," Adam said before he sat down on his bed. "Sorry, I was curious."

Elle didn't say anything. She ran her hands over the smooth wood. The top of the box had a devil's trap etched into it. Clearly, John hadn't wanted any demons to see the contents of the box. She looked at the lock and her brow furrowed. It was a specialty lock that looked like a devil's trap too. She had no idea how she was supposed to open it. She then looked at Adam. "Thanks," she said with a slight smile.

"Aren't you gonna open it?" he asked her.

"Need to find the key first. It's a d-it's a special kind of key. Sam or Dean might have an idea how to open it."

Adam's brow furrowed. "Sam and Dean? Who are they? Uncles?"

Elle blinked slowly, unsure of how to respond. Adam knew about her, but he didn't know about Sam or Dean. That was obviously done by John's design. Why? She would probably never know and Elle wasn't up for more complicated questions she couldn't properly answer. So, she just said, "Something like that."

That answer didn't seem to fully satisfy Adam, but he never got to say otherwise because a feminine voice called for him. "Adam!"

Adam shouted back. "In my room, Ma!" The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs grew louder. Elle began to panic. She looked at the window in Adam's room and immediately ran for it. "Whoa, where are you going?"

"I, uh, I'm not good at this kind of thing," Elle said, struggling to get the window open. "I should probably go. Believe me, it's for the best." Adam shook his head and quickly walked over to the window looking at his sister in confusion.

Just then, a blonde woman in her late thirties, early forties opened the door and looked curiously at the scene in front of her. "What the hell is going on in here?" she asked before looking sternly at her son as she folded her arms across her chest. "This better not be what I think it is, Adam."

"Ma! It's not what it looks like," Adam immediately responded. Elle rolled her eyes at his response before Adam grabbed hold of her arm and turned her toward his mother. "Ma, this is Elle. She's John's other kid."

Adam's mother stood there staring blankly at Elle. She dropped the glass of water in her hand and didn't even flinch as it shattered on the hardwood floors. "John's other kid," the woman slowly repeated the words as if she were in a trance. "I always suspected, but he never said anything." She then snapped out of it and walked across the room to Elle and stuck out her hand. "Where are my manners? I'm Kate Milligan, it's nice to meet you."

Elle accepted the woman's hand and shook it. "Hi," the Winchester girl said rather awkwardly. "I'm Elle, but you probably guessed that much already."

"So, what brings you to our neck of the woods, Elle?" Kate asked. Elle gave the box Adam had given her a shake and Kate nodded. "Yes, the box Adam thinks that I didn't know was in his closet."

Adam's eyes widened. "Ma!"

Kate chuckled before pointing to her son. "I know more about you than you think, young man. Secrets don't last long in this house."

Elle swallowed hard at Kate's last words because there were plenty of secrets neither of them was privy to, but Elle wasn't about to be the one to reveal them. No, she needed to get out of there. "I, uh, I think I should go," Elle said trying to sidestep Kate.

"But you just got here," Adam said, his face slightly frowning. "I have so many questions."

Which is exactly why I can't stay, Elle thought. Instead, she just looked at her newfound half-brother with a strained expression. But before Elle could say anything, Kate softly said, "Please, stay. I want you to. I want Adam to know his sister and I'm sure you want to get to know your brother, don't you?"

Elle closed her eyes. Right in the feels. Of course, she wanted to get to know her brother, but this was a shitty situation and the could exponentially be made worse in so many ways. She opened her eyes and saw the pleading expression from Adam and an encouraging one from Kate. That's when everything seemed to go wrong. "Where am I?" she muttered stumbling forward, falling into Kate's arms. And everything went black.

Kate easily caught Elle. She looked at her son, who stood there in shock. "Go get her a bottle of water," Kate told her son and Adam quickly ran from the room. She needed him gone from the room for this next part. Kate gently tapped Elle's cheek. The girl blinked slowly and breathed shallowly. "Elle, honey, you need to tell me what you're taking." From years of being a nurse, she had seen one too many people come in like this. "Elle."

Elle glanced down at her coat. Kate nodded and began to dig through Elle's coat pockets when she found exactly what she suspected: Vicodin. But judging by the scars Elle had covering her body, the fact that the girl used the drug to cope, didn't surprise her. Just then, Adam ran back upstairs with a bottle of water. "Help me get her up," Kate told her son.

Adam nodded and helped his mother get Elle to her feet. Slowly, the pair walked Elle down the hallway and then downstairs. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Elle muttered. "What' going on? Where am I?"

"Ma, what's going on?" Adam asked worriedly, shifting himself beneath Elle's weight.

Kate looked at her son. "Honey, we need to get her to the emergency room. Use my cellphone and tell them we're on our way." Kate and Adam managed to get Elle into the backseat of Kate's SUV before they raced to the hospital where Kate worked as Adam made a phonecall. Emergency personnel was waiting for them at the entrance to the emergency room. "Adam, stay in the car," Kate commanded as she helped get Elle onto the stretcher.

When she was sure that Adam wasn't listening Kate told the others, "She's on Vicodin. I don't know when she took the pills or how many she took, but she needs to get her stomach pumped, now." Kate watched as her friends wheeled Elle inside before she ran to her son and hugged him tightly, hoping for his sake, that Elle was going to be alright.

Adam and Kate sat in the waiting room for what seemed like hours, waiting for any word on Elle. Kate kept her son close to her and Adam, for once, didn't seem to mind or find it embarrassing. He sat in the chair with his head resting on his mom's shoulder. Eventually, a nurse came out. "Kate, she's stable. You guys can go see her now before we move her somewhere for a longer stay."

Adam immediately got to his feet, while Kate was a little slower about it. Once they made it to Elle's room. Adam hesitated to go inside for a moment. What was he supposed to say to the sister he just met? Kate nodded her head urging him forward. So, he simply went and sat on the chair beside the bed. Kate stood outside for a moment with one of her colleagues. "How do you know her?" the other nurse asked.

"Do you remember Adam's daddy?" Kate asked.

The woman nodded her head. "Never seen anyone banged up so badly before, from whatever he said it was."

Kate nodded toward Elle. "She's his daughter. Adam said she's twenty-two, so he had her before we ever got together."

"Did you know about her?"

"Not until I met her trying to sneak out of my son's bedroom."

The nurse nodded her head knowingly. "So, what are you gonna do?"

Kate's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Once that girl gets released, she's gonna need to detox. It's gonna get bad, you know that." Kate nodded her head, knowing full-well what happened. "She's gonna need someone there for her. Does she have anyone?"

Kate shrugged her shoulders. "Like I said, I just met her."

"Adam seems awfully fond of her already."

Adam's mother sighed. "John hasn't been answering his calls lately. Elle's the closest thing he has to John right now. I'm just not sure that's a good thing."

A few days later, Elle was released from the hospital when Adam was at school. She walked out of the hospital hoping to catch a cab, but she was surprised to find Kate Milligan's SUV parked at the curb. "You want a ride?" Kate asked. Elle looked at the woman rather reluctantly. "I don't bite hard," the woman said with a soft smile.

So, Elle hopped in the front seat of the SUV beside Kate. "Buckle up," Kate said. Elle did as she was told and her brother's mother pulled the car into drive. They rode in silence for several minutes, before Kate said, "Elle, we need to talk."

Elle sighed, "I figured that was going to have to happen eventually. Don't worry, I'm just gonna leave town quietly like I never was even here. I'll be out of your hair and you won't have to ever worry about me again."

Kate shook her head, "God, you're too much like your daddy. Always jumping to the worst conclusion first. I'm not kicking you out...not yet anyway. I just have a few questions." Elle didn't respond to Kate. Instead, she looked at her down at the brown combat boots on her feet. Elle wasn't resisting, so Kate proceeded. "You got any family nearby?"

Elle shook her head and folded her arms across her chest. "Don't know where they are exactly."

"Why did you come find Adam?"

"John told me to. He didn't tell me that-that I had a brother. He just said that I needed to check in on Adam from time to time without an explanation. So, I just decided to do it."

"That sounds like John," Kate scoffed before asking her next question. "What's in the box?"

Elle sighed. "Like I told Adam when he gave it to me, I have no idea. It has a special key and I've never seen it before in my life."

"Why did you start taking Vicodin?"

Elle's brow furrowed. She wasn't entirely sure how to explain what happened to her without going into any supernatural details. After mulling her words over carefully for a few moments she finally responded, "I was kidnapped a few months ago and tortured as you can probably see. I eventually escaped, but on my way to the hospital, I was in a car accident. They said for a while there, I was actually dead. But here I am. And yeah, been in pain ever since."

Kate nodded her head before she turned to look at Elle and sighed. "I don't want you getting Adam into that crap. Do you hear me? I won't let my son be a part of that."

Stubbornly, Elle responded, "Like I said, I'm leaving."

"You don't have to," Kate said. "You need help Elle and I'm willing to help you. I have some paid vacation time I need to take otherwise I'll lose it. You can stay with me and Adam and we'll help you get through this. I'll be there with you 100% percent of the time. Well, 99% because I'll probably have to pee at some point, but I think you get it."

Elle looked at Kate in confusion. "But why? You don't even know me."

"You're Adam's sister. You walked into his life and I'm sorry, but you're not just walking out. He's waited his whole life for something like this to happen. That being said, I can't make you stay. If you're not serious about detoxing then maybe it is better that you just walk out and that Adam grows to resent you. But if you want to have a relationship with your brother, then you need to get yourself well again. Yeah, you were dealt a shitty hand, but you know, that's life."

Kate pulled the SUV into the driveway and put it in park. She then turned toward Elle. "You can either come in the house with me and fight through this or you can get back in your car, which I know is stolen by the way, and you can never see my son again. The choice is yours." Kate then hopped out of the SUV and walked into the house leaving Elle to her thoughts.

Elle wasn't sure what to do. Honestly, her insides screamed to run. She didn't really need another brother. She didn't need another secret from Sam and Dean. She didn't need the sympathy of strangers. But she knew that she did need to get better. She could see herself easily overdosing on the pills and that scared her. Maybe she wasn't as prepared for death as she had convinced herself many times before. Besides, maybe getting help from complete strangers would be a little easier. She didn't know how to B.S. them. Not to mention that Kate actually knew how to help her. But still, it wasn't an easy decision to make.

The Winchester girl stepped out of the SUV and walked to the car. She grabbed her duffel bag out of the back, locking any hunting items in the trunk, and walked up the stairs. She stood on the porch and rang the doorbell. Kate appeared with a slight smile on her face. "I hope going to the car to grab my things doesn't nullify your deal," Elle said with a tired smile.

"No, but just know that I am going through that bag," Kate said. "I will find any stash of Vicodin you have."

Elle nodded her head. "I figured as much."

The Winchester girl handed Kate the bag and the woman gestured to the dining room which had been transformed into a makeshift bedroom. "We don't have a guest room," Kate acknowledged. "I hope this will be fine." Elle nodded her head slowly as she followed Kate into the room. Kate pointed to an old ice cream pail and a giant-ass bottle of water. "These will become your new best friends for the next couple of weeks," Kate said. "You're gonna puke. Sorry, kid, it's just gonna happen. But make sure you drink enough water. Don't want you getting dehydrated."

Elle shifted anxiously. "How bad is this gonna get?" she asked.

"How long you been on the pills?" Kate asked.

"About six months."

Kate nodded her head. "It's not gonna be pretty, but we'll get you through this. I promise. You do as I say and you will come out the other side."

The next few weeks were almost more painful than being tortured by Yellow Eyes. So much puke. So much water. So much pain. So tired. More puke. More water. More puke. More water. But true to her word, Kate was by her side the entire time helping her through it, slowly weaning her off the Vicodin. It certainly wasn't an easy process. There were nights she woke up screaming in pain, but Kate was right there with a warm washcloth to help soothe the pain. When Adam wasn't at school, he was there to sneak her candy he had bought on his way home from school. The gesture made Elle chuckle. Something so innocent.

Elle had told Sam and Dean what she was doing. She had also told them that it was better if she went through this without them. While it might not have been the whole truth, they wanted what was best for her. But they still kept an annoyingly close eye on her through text messages. Sam texted her twice a day, but Dean surprised her. He texted her once every couple of hours despite however disappointed or pissed-off he was, he did want what was best for her.

Kate had set a television up in the room and she introduced Elle to the classic Christmas movies, that Elle had never seen before. "You've never seen White Christmas before?" Kate questioned in sheer disbelief.

"I don't know about you, but the movie doesn't exactly scream John Winchester to me," Elle laughed back.

"You have a point there. But you said you had a Disney phase? How did you get away with watching those?"

"I always watched those at Bobby's house when John had to...go out of town."

"Ah, now drink some water."

Elle groaned. "But I haven't puked in hours."

"Yeah, well you're gonna puke later and I want you nice and hydrated for that."

By Christmas Eve, Elle was almost beginning to feel herself again. She still had some pain from time to time, but with Kate's help, she had learned how to deal with it more appropriately. Elle wandered the house admiring all the Christmas decorations. She had never really had something like this before. Kate and Adam had welcomed her into their home and they even let her put up the decorations on the tree. It almost felt normal, but at the same time, Elle knew it was all a lie and that it would all come to an end at some point. But she was going to enjoy it while she could.

Just then, Adam walked into the room with a plate of Christmas cookies. "Want one?" he asked with his mouth full. Elle chuckled as she reached for a thumbprint cookie filled with green icing. "Do you have any Christmas traditions?" Adam asked.

Elle shook her head. "I don't know that I've ever spent Christmas in the same spot twice. It's kinda usually just always been another day for me." She was careful not to bring up Sam and Dean...not because she didn't think Adam couldn't handle it, but because the more she thought about it, Dad was right. Sam and Dean couldn't handle it.

"Ma usually drags me to church," Adam said munching on a cookie. "But then we come home, we each open one present, have some hot chocolate and cookies, watch a movie, and go to bed. Then we wake up, open presents, and kinda chill all day in our PJs."

"Sounds like fun," Elle said.

"It is. Except for the church part. Just don't tell Ma I told you that. It's the only time of year we go to church and I don't want to go any more than I already have to." Elle smiled at how innocent he seemed. How going to church could be one of the worst things in one's life seemed almost unfathomable. "You want to come with?"

Elle chuckled. "How could I possibly miss something like that?"

Later that night, Elle dressed in the black dress she had stolen nearly a year ago. It hung from her shoulders and did nothing to flatter her figure, but it was all she had that was church-appropriate. She wore dark tights underneath, her brown combat boots, and left her hair hanging down in curls to cover most of her scars. She hoped people wouldn't stare, but these days she almost expected it.

Elle was pleasantly surprised by the church service. There was no fire and brimstone sermon. The Lutheran service was comprised of hymns and Bible readings. She wasn't sure if she believed any of it, but she did enjoy getting to sing along to the hymns. Except for some reason Hark, the Herald Angels Sing gave her a pulsing headache. She held her head in her hands and Kate wrapped an arm around Elle through her pain. But the second they stopped singing the hymn, it went away and she felt fine. Odd.

When they got home, Kate made them all hot chocolate. She then handed Elle and Adam a present. Elle looked at her in shock. "You got me a present?" Elle asked with tears stinging her eyes.

"It's Christmas. It just wouldn't be right to let you go without," Kate said with a shrug before she smirked. "Besides, you might not be thanking me once you open it." Elle and Adam opened their gifts, matching flannel shirts! "Because I know how much you both love it,' Kate teased.

Adam rolled his eyes and put his shirt on over his t-shirt. Elle did the same. Kate snapped a picture of them in their matching flannel before they settled down and watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas, the original...not the Jim Carey version. When the movie finished, they settled down for bed. This was probably the most apple-pie life Elle had ever lived so far.

That night, Elle's dreams were plagued. She had visions of her mother's bracelet. She had visions of her father. She had visions of someone pressing a small charm in the shape of a devil's trap into the box. "The time is coming, Campbell. The time is coming," a familiar voice repeated over and over again. "You can no longer sit idle. The time is coming nigh."

Elle awoke in a flash breathing hard. She rubbed her temples gently, trying to calm herself down, the way Kate had taught her. "It was just a dream. Only a dream," Elle tried to convince herself. Just then, the clasp on her bracelet opened and fell to the floor. She bent over the side of her bed to pick it up when she spotted John's box on the floor beside the bracelet. The memory of her dreams surfaced. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to shake it off before she reached for both her bracelet and the box.

The Winchester girl held the bracelet up and found the devil's trap charm. She then looked curiously at the box. They were roughly the same size. It couldn't possibly be...Slowly, Elle brought the charm to the lock. She pressed the charm into the lock and after a clicking noise, the lid popped open. She muffled her gasp by throwing her hands over her mouth. For several minutes, she just sat with the box in her lap, staring at it. She almost couldn't bring herself to rifle through the contents.

Inside the box, were pictures of her. There were pictures she never even knew existed. Pictures of Elle with John that she didn't remember taking. Drawing she had made him when she was little that she could have sworn he had tossed. There were also letters. Likely hundreds of them and she recognized the handwriting as her father's. Gently, she plucked the envelope that said ELLE, OPEN FIRST. She looked at it in her hands. It was addressed to Elle. Elle. Tears stung at her eyes. Had he been telling the truth about everything? Her heart began to beat faster as she tore into the envelope.

Elle,

If you're reading this, I am either dead or I have killed the son-of-a-bitch and am safe to talk to you freely. If I'm dead, then you've met Adam. He's a good kid, but he's not in our lifestyle. Please keep it that way. He's better off not knowing. Don't tell him about Sam or Dean and vice versa. We're gonna try and keep this as simple as possible.

Also, if I'm dead, I don't know if I ever got the chance to tell you that I love you, baby girl. You are my greatest pride and joy. You never deserved any of this and I'm sorry for everything I put you through. I know it doesn't make up for anything, but you have always been loved. I just couldn't let them know you're my weakness because I don't know what they would do to you if they knew.

I wanted to give you a life so much better than this. I wanted to give you an apple-pie life. I wanted everything for you. Again, I'm so sorry I couldn't. You deserved better, better than me. You are special, Elle. Special in more ways than I could ever even imagine, in ways that I don't even fully comprehend. But I'm working on it. All I've managed to work out is this: Castiel. I don't know what it means, but if I'm dead, then it's a starting place for you.

Love,

Dad

By the end of the letter, Elle was choking back tears, regretting her final words to her father. She had been so cold to him. While her Vicodin addiction was mostly under control, her self-loathing and self-hatred were still at an all time high. She wiped at her tear-stained face, trying to focus on her breathing. It wasn't fair. None of it.

Elle reread the letter, focusing on the end. "Castiel," she mused aloud. Once the words escaped her lips, the house shook and lightning struck. She looked around in confusion. That word sounded so familiar, but it was also likely that father had misspelled castle. She didn't know what it meant, but it was a starting place. That was more than she had in quite some time. It was a sign. The sign she had been waiting for.

Living with Kate and Adam had been nice, but it wasn't for her. She needed to get back to her life. She needed to get back to her brothers. She needed to make amends with them. Despite the fact that she had been on Vicodin, the actions were hers and hers alone and she needed to atone for her sins. She began packing everything in her duffel bag, making sure John's box was in there. There were still other letters for her to read. Letters that might help her make more sense of the situation.

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed. Elle turned around to find Kate standing in the doorway. "I wondered when this might happen," she said.

"Kate, I wasn't going to leave without saying goodbye. But I think it's time. I'm so grateful for everything you have done to help me. Believe me, but I can't take anymore advantage of you. I need to get back to work. I-I have people in my life I need to…"

"You don't have to explain yourself, Elle. I get it. You can't stay here forever, we all knew it. I just ask that you wait until after Christmas. I don't want to see Adam disappointed on Christmas."

Elle nodded her head. "Do you think he'll understand?" the Winchester girl asked innocently.

"Just tell him what you told me and keep in regular contact with him and you'll be fine."

Elle walked over and hugged Kate. "Thank you for everything," Elle whispered. The two women released the hug and Kate went back to bed. Elle too crawled back into bed. She sent a text to Sam and Dean: Boys, I'm coming back. Elle hoped she was ready for whatever was about


	34. Nightshifter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written by Nixdragon on fanfiction.net 
> 
> Nixie and I years ago talked about switching stories for a chapter. We finally decided to follow through with it and she picked Elle's story so that we can get to Caselle sooner! haha. So, please be kind to her. I wrote a chapter of her Harry Potter story Dreaming of Paradise! Go check it out! :)

Elle pulled up early, reaching the meeting spot long before the time she and her brothers had agreed on. And that was with the time it had taken to drive three hours and change into her FBI costume.

She took one glance around the empty motel lot, another up at the gathering clouds and setting sun, and turned the car back on.

When she returned after dark with several bags of Taco Bell, Dean was standing alone under a corner of the main building and glaring at her through the drizzle.

Elle rolled down her window and leaned out to throw him a taco.

"You look like a creep."

"Oh, hardy har. You're late." He stalked around and glared down at the piles of food in the front seat. "Elle."

"Dean." Elle grabbed fistfuls of bags and tossed them in the back of her stolen car. "Where's Sam?"

"We're meeting him at the bank." He gave her a concerned once over. "You ok?"

"Yep!" Elle gave him a grin far too wide to be real. "Taco Bell is my new vice of choice. Don't be too relieved though: it might kill me faster."

"Not funny, Campbell."

"I think I'm hysterical." Elle pulled out of the parking lot. "Fill me in."

Elle was quieter as they walked into the bank and Dean got them past security. A shifter. It had been ages since they'd messed with the last one and it still felt too soon. She didn't look forward to dredging through the sewers to find its home either, come to think of it. And it was robbing high-security locations with lots of cameras? And then there was the service uniform Dean had made her put on over her suit.

Had she picked the worst possible time to come back?

Dean was watching her suspiciously as she trailed slightly behind getting into the elevator. She gave him the fake smile again but he didn't say anything, just jabbed a button and crossed his arms.

Elle considered all her troubles and everything that had happened last time. She stepped slightly behind Dean and pulled her silver bracelet from under her sleeve, balling it into her palm.

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Catch."

He looked puzzled but reached out. She watched him raise the bracelet to his face with no ill effects and then nod approvingly.

"Great, now give it back," Elle demanded.

"Yeah, yeah." He said as he obeyed. "You gonna do that every time we disappear to the bathroom?"

The elevator opened.

"Shut up." Elle stalked off.

Dean wrinkled his nose as he followed. "I was serious." He muttered. "Damn shifters."

The Winchesters found their way to the security room and slipped inside. Sam was already there, starting at various screens and frowning angstily. When he heard the door click shut, he whirled around and then Elle was being drowned in a hug.

"You're back!" He dropped her and she let out an 'oof'. "How are you doing? How are you feeling?"

"Oh, she's just peachy," Dean grumbled. He took Sam's chair and put his feet up on the other.

"I'm fine." Elle smiled at Sam. "I'm glad to be back. Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"You had to find us another shifter, didn't you?"

Sam grabbed one of the chairs and yanked, letting Dean's feet fall to the floor. He gestured tiredly to the cameras.

"Sadly, we still have to actually find him. You ready for some 'Where's Waldo'?"

Elle groaned.

It was going to be a long night.

The Winchesters fell silent for the next hour or so, apart from some bickering on Dean and Sam's part. Dean tried to needle Elle but she was too busy wishing she could look away and play her Gameboy to bother replying. The security guard popped in a few times and they watched his eyes on the cameras as he made his way back to his station, still finding nothing suspicious.

Elle was ignoring another of her brothers' spats when Sam nudged her and brought her attention a different screen.

"We got him?"

"We got him."

Sam began to storm from the room as Elle took a moment to memorize the man's face.

Dean didn't move.

"Sam!"

"What?"

Elle followed Dean's pointing finger to find a strange man at the door of the bank, definitely not the man they'd just identified as the shifter. He was chaining the front door shut.

"Who the hell is that?" Elle groaned.

"Well," Dean sighed. "At least we know you can't run away again."

"Dean!"

"Elle!"

"Would you two come on?"

They headed down, finding their way into a hallway with people rushing toward them, trying to get away. The sound of gunfire popped from the main hall.

"You said not to bring guns." Elle scolded Dean.

"Sam said not to bring guns." Dean snapped.

Sam threw up his hands. "I didn't know this was going to happen!"

"This always happens!" Elle hissed back. "Don't you have anything?"

"A silver knife?" Dean said.

Elle held out the bracelet. "Trade me."

"No!"

"Guys!" Sam winced as more gunfire echoed.

"Fine!" Dean yanked a knife from his boot and trade for Elle's silver bracelet. Elle tucked the knife into her own pocket as Dean frowned down at the jewelry. "Wait. What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

"Find a shifter. Go stop the Ronald." Elle shoved his arm lightly.

Sam nodded. "Come on, Dean."

"Just let me do the talking." Dean sighed. "I don't think he likes you very much, 'Agent Johnson'."

"Who is he?" Elle repeated.

"Ronald."

"Ronald McDonald?!"

"No, the weird friend."

"Would you please do something, Dean." Sam interrupted.

"Oh. Right."

Elle watched her brothers walk forward but stopped as she got to the doorway. Her eyes scanned the crowd of people still in the room. No shifter. She watched as Dean approach the gunman and start talking: it didn't look like it was going to go well.

Elle turned and slipped back into the hallway.

The bank manager had been heading toward the offices. Elle slipped off the service uniform to show her suit, tossing the jacket aside as well before rolling up her shirt sleeves. She yanked the knife out from where it had landed with the uniform and continued through the building.

She could hear echoes of her brothers' voices, unintelligible but closer then they'd been for a long time. Everything else was still. People had found hiding spots. The rain had stopped outside.

Wherever the shifter was, it was quiet.

Elle tried to move just as quietly.

She crouched low, knife carefully at her side, peeking around each corner before moving forward. Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she pulled it out to see the beginning of a text, Sam letting her know the police had arrived. Elle licked her lips and set the phone on silent, hoping she'd remember to check it after so long ignoring it.

A sound ahead.

A creepy, disgusting sound.

The Shifter!

Memories of her last helpless encounter moved her forward. She peeked around a corner and found the shifter just finishing its transformation, shaking off a bit of skin from its feet. Its back was too her.

Elle leaped forward just as it turned to check behind. Her knife sunk into it, burning but missing the heart by inches. Elle gasped and stabbed again. The shifter screamed and hit her hand away, the knife blade trailing along its arm with another agonizing sizzle.

The creature winced back and Elle hoped that she hadn't broken anything-oh, no, if she had broken another bone now… She shook off the thought and lunged again, yelling herself as she fought off her fear of the shifter and fear of that stupid Vicodin and the fear of everything her father had lied about.

She stabbed twice, again the shifter twisting at the last second.

The shifter stumbled back, eyes casting about for escape. As one Elle and the shifter noted a ventilation shaft on the wall above its head.

The shifter jumped.

Elle charged.

And the shifter fell to the floor with a knife buried in its heart.

Elle stumbled back to her feet.

Her hands were covered in blood. Her hair had half tumbled around her face. She was shaking with anger.

She looked up and straight into a security camera.

Elle stared up for one long moment.

Oops.

She shoved the dead body under a desk.

Then she snatched up her knife, grabbed the shed skin, and headed back down to her brothers.

Elle stumbled back out toward the main hall. She found the pile of clothing she'd left and paused to pull her sleeves back down, leaving bloody handprints on the white fabric before it occurred to her that there was probably a bathroom and she then looked up to find a bathroom sign right next to her head.

Elle sighed.

A few minutes later, Elle strode out of the bathroom looking put together again in her suit jacket, with her hair back in an updo. She'd hidden the knife up a sleeve and instead held her FBI credentials and the disgusting skin pile. She had just fetched both and begun to leave when it occurred to her she should have checked her phone first.

'Locked in vault. Help. Love, Sam.'

Elle wandered for about ten minutes before finding her way to the vault, still peaking around corners in case there was a second shifter or she stumbled across Ronald. She arrived at the vault and found it closed.

The lights went out.

With a sigh, Elle tucked the credentials into her pocket and started trying to decide how she was going to break into a vault in the middle of a robbery.

She was saved from doing so by the approach of her brother. She turned to glare at Dean, catching sight of the gunman at his side.

"You brought Ronald. What have you told him?"

Ronald's eyes bugged. "How do you know my name?"

"She knows everything," Dean told him. "Where have you been?"

Elle tossed the skin to him. She used the now free hand to pull out the knife and pressed the silver against the back of her other hand. "It's dead. We need to leave."

Ronald leaned down to study the skin, touching it gingerly. "Robot skin is so lifelike."

"Sure is, buddy." Dean clapped him on the back. "Can I have the gun now?"

Ronald looked at Dean. He looked at Elle. Elle nodded.

He gave Dean the gun.

"What now?" Dean asked.

Elle shrugged. "I did the hard part. I think I'm going to take a nap." She waved a hand at the dead lights. "The cops aren't going to care that we didn't start this."

"Yeah, I think the feds have pulled up too."

"So good to be back, Dean. So good."

"Shush."

Dean went to rescue Sam, shutting the vault again along with several indignant shouts. Elle watched her brothers begin to discuss escape routes, then turned to Ronald.

"How did you get wrapped up in this?"

Ronald pointed to the pile of skin on the floor. "It framed my best bud. I had to do something."

"But no one believed you," Elle said apologetically.

"No." He gestured to the boys. "I thought they didn't believe me either."

"Yeah, they're jerks like that." Elle considered the man for a moment. Was he an idiot? Or brave? Her thoughts were interrupted by a shrill brrring.

The cops were calling.

Elle considered the phone for a moment and then snatched it up, turning her body to shield it from Dean's attempt to grab it from her. There was a brief scuffle that the cop on the other end definitely heard and then Sam pulled Dean away.

"FBI speaking," Elle said cheerfully.

There was a pause.

"This is Special Agent Victor Henrikson."

"Ohhh. Yikes."

"Which of the Winchesters am I speaking to?"

Elle's eyes went wide. She slammed a hand over the receiver and turned to gape at her brothers. "He knows it's us." She mouthed.

Dean motioned for the phone.

Elle put the phone back to her own face. "Who says I'm a Winchester."

"Well, I have to admit we don't have a name for you yet. But Dean: your monster of a brother of boyfriend or father or whatever he is that you've been following him and his little Sam... " There was a laugh without any hint of humor. "Yes, I know about Sam, too."

"I'm sure you're very smart," Elle said primly. Her free hand was waving panickedly at Sam and Dean to figure something out. "What are your demands?"

"My demands?" He seemed to like that. "You three, out here, unarmed. Or we come in."

"You that worried about little old us?"

"I wonder if you know everything I know," Henrikson replied. "About the desecrations. The thefts. What Dean pulled in Baltimore. The murders in St. Louis." He paused dramatically. "I know about his dear old dad."

"Well, I give you an 'A' on stalking. Excellent work. Do you want some pizzas and a helicopter as well? When you're making demands, you really oughtt to go all out."

"You have one hour to make a decision or we come in full automatic."

"I'll tell Dean you say hi." Elle waited. "He hung up."

"Who was that?" Dean demanded.

"FBI Victor Henrikson. He's in love with you." Her voice grew serious. "He gave us an hour. To turn ourselves in."

Sam and Dean both swore.

Elle turned to Ronald. "The good news is, you can probably blame all of this on us."

Sam and Elle left Dean to tie Ronald up and began exploring the bank. Elle couldn't help but check the time on her phone once every three minutes. An hour later, the three Winchesters stood in place and waited.

They didn't wait long.

Henrikson followed the SWAT team through the building, discovering bodies as they went. He checked each one like he checked the hostages. Looking for Dean and Sam. Looking for any woman who might be their unidentified friend.

Nothing.

Nothing. Again.

Henrikson found his way to the security center as the power came back on, looked around the building as the SWAT leader approached. There were no hiding spots here. It was a bank. It was open. Where were they? He hit a few buttons, rewinding footage and studying the action. There was Dean Winchester, confidant and mad. There were Sam trailing after, a wrecking ball.

And there behind them, once again, was an unexplainable blur where a woman should be.

"Sir?" The SWAT leader said. "My team says its secure. They're gone."

The agent turned and gestured around, from the dead bank manager to the blood spatter path he'd been dragged to the vents. "You tell your team to tear it apart! The ducts, the ceiling, the furnace, everything!"

"I don't think that's necessary."

Henrikson followed the man to a broom closet.

Two officers sat stripped to their underwear, another officer attempting to remove the handcuffs tying them together.

Henrikson closed his eyes and sighed.

"You could have found a smaller uniform." Elle muttered as she clambered into the back of the Impala and yanked it off. "That only worked because you too are mass murderers and they all were too busy looking up."

"How many SWAT do you think are your size?" Sam shot back. He pulled off his own mask.

Dean pulled off his mask as well and the three sat for a moment in the car, back together again just in time for everything to go south. Finally, Dean reached down and turned the key.

"We are so screwed."

Sam nodded.

Elle closed her eyes and settled down further into the back seat.

They drove away.

Author's Note: Here's another chapter! Again, I really hope you enjoyed Nixie's writing! I know she worked hard on this. She did use my map for ths story, so she knew where I was going. :)

I know it's been a while. Sorry about that. Last year was hell for me and Elle's muse just wasn't there. But a lot in my life recently changed for the better. I'm a million times happier, except for the cold I caught yesterday...haha. I hoping to be able to get more of this story written, but give me some time to figure out a the new routine with the school I'm teaching at. I will try my hardest not to be gone for over a year again.

Thanks to everyone who has read/reviewed/followed or favorited this story. It meant a lot to me. The last year was hell for me and then I made some big life changes.

Also, if you're on tumblr and you like reading stories with OCs, you should check out ocappreciation. I'm an admin there and we have a lot of stories you might not know about. Or if you write your own OC stories, we can help promote them there too! :)

Much love,

Cassandra (a.k.a. January Lily)


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